Not Go Gentle
by cloneserpents
Summary: As the world and everything he knows dissolves into chaos and anarchy, Voldemort's plan to destroy Harry Potter is realized. Post HBP VERY DARK/DEMON HARRY – HAREM HP/HG/SB/DG PLEASE READ WARNING!
1. Chapter 1

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part One

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and nonconsensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major cannon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from cannon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him Post-HBP HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY

28 July was just a non-descript day to most; very much like the day before or the day after. It was a day like any other; nothing to set it apart from the rest – no holiday made it special nor did it have any historical significance. But for Harry Potter it was the day he made the noblest decision of his life. It was the day he decided not to allow his two best friends to make a mistake that could very likely end their lives.

Hermione and Ron, along with three other friends, had followed Harry once into danger in the Department of Mysteries and their loyalty almost cost them their lives. Now Ron and Hermione were planning on risking their lives once more to aid Harry. He vowed that he would not let them put themselves in harm's way for him again; he loved them too much to knowingly allow such a mistake to be repeated. Shortly after Dumbledore's funeral and Ron and Hermione's subsequent pledge of allegiance, Harry had decided to search for Voldemort's Horcruxes alone, leaving his two friends safe and well out of danger. It wasn't much of a plan: Harry decided to send a letter to Ron and Hermione saying that he'd wait for them, but then secretly escape the prison that was his relatives' home.

Harry scribbled a simple and short note to Hermione, knowing that she would pass the information along to her now-boyfriend, Ron.

_"Dear Hermione and Ron,_

_Three more days until I'm free and I can leave my relatives' house. When you arrive, I'll be waiting for you two outside the house; I'd rather not subject you to my Aunt and Uncle's unique charm._

_See you on the 31st,_

_Harry."_

Not normally known for lengthy posts, the young wizard had intentionally made the note short and direct in order not to reveal any hints as to his true plan. It hurt him to lie to his friends, but it was for the best. Harry realized that there was a good chance that he could get killed hunting Voldemort's Horcruxes; and unlike Ron and Hermione, Harry considered himself to be expendable. The young man had no real family to grieve over him, and his only loved ones were the two people he was trying to save with this small deceit. Harry couldn't bear the guilt if either Ron or Hermione got hurt again.

There was no chance that someone would stop him from leaving his life-long prison. If his relatives discovered that he was leaving earlier than expected, they'd gladly hold open the door for him so that he could hasten his exit. His Aunt, Uncle, and cousin were already happily counting the days until Harry's departure. If that day came sooner than planned, they would be overjoyed. There was no one from the Order keeping an eye on his relatives' home anymore. After Dumbledore's murder, so many members of the Order of the Phoenix had left that the group had all but disbanded. Many of the original members felt that they couldn't continue without the venerable leader to guide them, so they abandoned the group. Remus and a handful of others, including Moody, McGonagall, Tonks, Shacklebolt, a number of the Weasley family, and Hagrid, tried to carry on, but because of Voldemort's increasingly brazen tactics, the Order could no longer spare members to guard Harry. Instead the remaining Order members focused on helping the Ministry in hunting down the evil doers. This meant that no Order member would be hiding outside of number four to stop Harry from leaving.

With an ache in his chest, Harry attached the false note to his snowy-owl's leg.

"I need you to take this to Hermione, girl," Harry requested of Hedwig. "And I need you to stay with her until I come for you. Do you understand?"

Harry gave his owl that particular order so that Hermione and his other friends couldn't use Hedwig to follow him. He knew that the moment Hermione discovered that he had left for his hunt without her; she would use Hedwig to track him down by placing some sort of Tracking Charm on the owl. Of course this didn't mean that his friends could use other owls, but at least they wouldn't be able to use Hedwig.

Hedwig hooted sadly as Harry stroked her feathers. "It's for the best, girl," he consoled her. Hedwig spread her wings and gracefully flew out of Harry's room and toward the horizon.

Harry spent the next fifteen minutes tidying up his room, not to please his relatives but to make sure that he left nothing important behind. Satisfied that he had all of his necessary possessions, Harry silently walked out of the Dursleys' house with his flying broom over one shoulder and a makeshift bag under the other, not even bothering to say goodbye.

Harry walked until he could no longer see number four and then pulled out his wand and held it in the air. In a matter of seconds, the triple-decker Knight Bus sprang into view with a loud bang. Harry stepped onto the bus and told the conductor; "The Leaky Cauldron."

After paying the eleven sickle fee, Harry took a seat near the back. Thankfully, only a few people were on the bus and it took little time for Harry to reach his destination.

Walking into the dimly lit pub, Harry politely greeted Tom but did not slow his pace. He had no intention of stopping and having a chat with the barkeep. Many of the patrons eyed Harry as he made his way to the alley entrance behind the pub. The raven haired wizard ignored the stares; being "_The Boy Who Lived_," he had grown used to them over the past few years and had become accustomed to them. Unfortunately, he didn't notice the shadowy figure sitting at a table in a dark corner that stood and followed shortly after he passed through the exit.

After leaving the pub and entering Diagon Alley, Harry walked briskly to Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Thirty minutes later, Harry left the bank with a sack full of Galleons. Now that he had enough money, Harry decided to spend some on supplies and research material; such as potion supplies and books on spells, among other things. Perhaps he could find a spell or amulet that would mask him from all post owls so that none of his friends could track him.

Another agenda he had for coming to Diagon Alley had been to head to its darker counterpart; Knockturn Alley. He needed to talk to Borgin to see if the shady wizard could shed any light on Harry's quest. If anyone knew about dark items such as Horcruxes, Harry figured the oily fellow would know.

Harry resolved that he should get the most difficult part out of the way and talk to Borgin first. Perhaps he could bribe him; from what little Harry knew of the man, he knew it would be pointless to try and appeal to his sense of good. Gold was the only thing of importance to Borgin.

The young man was slightly suspicious as he approached the entrance to Knockturn Alley; as there were very few people on the street. He told himself that he was overreacting; perhaps the Ministry had cracked down even more on suspected Dark Arts users and that many of the people who frequented Knockturn Alley were simply hiding. Accepting this reasoning, Harry pressed on. He had made it halfway to Borgin and Burkes before a bolt of red light rocketed out of the shadows and hit him square in the back.

**x**

**x**

"So good of you to join us, Harry," a cold and high voice said, waking Harry. It was a voice that he immediately recognized as Voldemort's.

Terror filled Harry's mind and his first instinct was to run as far away from the evil wizard as possible. But he quickly found out that he was under a Full-Body Bind and was unable to move in the slightest. Harry's entire body was locked together magically and was as rigid as a board. His eyes, the only part of his body that he could still move, darted in every direction as panic started to set in. Moldy walls of rock and crumbling masonry surrounded him. The only light in the room came from several burning torches hanging from the walls; the flickering flames making the shadows dance. He was lying on a hard, cold stone slab in some sort of dungeon.

"You really shouldn't go out by yourself," Voldemort said coldly, walking out of the dark shadows and into Harry's line of vision. The sinister wizard's serpentine lips were curled into a sadistic smile. "It's far too dangerous to travel alone these days. Many terrible things can happen to a young man such as yourself. For instance, a Death Eater, innocently having a spot to eat, could've spotted you as you strolled through the Leaky Cauldron. That same Death Eater could've easily followed you and stunned you when the time was right," Voldemort laughed cruelly.

Fear made Harry's blood run cold. He had faced Voldemort before and had always been afraid, but he had never been as vulnerable as he was now. During his previous encounters, Harry had his wand and was able to use the meager spells and charms knowledge he had to defend himself until help arrived or he was able to escape by chance. But this time, Harry had no wand and doubted that someone would be able to rescue him.

From the other side of Harry, Bellatrix Lestrange sauntered into view. She dragged the tip of her wand across Harry's chest, toying with him while Voldemort continued to speak.

"I've spent the better part of the last sixteen years trying to kill you, Harry," Voldemort spoke evenly, as if discussing something trivial like the weather. "And now that I have you in my tender care, and there is no chance of the pesky Order of the Phoenix coming to rescue you, I find that I'm not happy with the thought of merely killing you. No, death is too simple, too easy for you. I now desire to completely destroy you."

To Harry, Voldemort was speaking circularly. Wouldn't he be destroyed if Voldemort killed him? It made no sense. Obviously Voldemort, the sadist, was playing with him, mocking him before he died.

"I have such plans for you," Voldemort said while he looked down at Harry's still form. There was an odd sparkle in Voldemort's red eyes, giving the villain a peculiar expression; almost like affection or adoration.

Bellatrix jabbed her wand in the side of Harry's neck and smiled before he felt his neck rip open; it was as if a hot knife tore through his throat. His jugular erupted in a fountain of blood. Harry's blood splashed on Bellatrix's face; the spray rained down on Voldemort, who stood there as if it was just a light summer shower. Harry made gurgling and wet sucking sounds as he gasped for breath through the jagged gash in his neck while his lifeblood sprayed out of that same wound.

She had hit him with _Sectumsempra_, the powerful cutting hex Snape had created when he was a schoolboy. The spell had slashed through Harry's flesh, muscles, arteries, and his trachea like they were made out of wet paper. Within a few scant seconds, Harry's vision started to darken and he felt his heart begin to slow. The flow of blood rapidly turned into a trickle.

Harry saw Bellatrix lick his blood off of her lips while Voldemort casually wiped away a dribble of blood that was threatening to flow into his eye with the tip of his long finger.

He could no longer feel his arms or legs and his torso was as cold as ice due to the massive amount of blood loss. His throat, which had felt as if it were on fire, suddenly became numb. Harry knew that he was going to die in a matter of seconds in some dungeon, while the villain who had tried to kill him his entire life watched like a spectator at a Quidditch match.

Without warning, Voldemort waved his wand over Harry's neck in an intricate pattern, similar to the one Snape used on Draco when Harry had cast the very same cutting hex on the blond ponce. Air returned to Harry's lungs in great gulps after his jugular and windpipe had been magically stitched back together. A Death Eater, one Harry did not recognize, appeared out of the shadows and grabbed him by the chin. He forced Harry's jaw open and poured the contents of a small, glass vial into the young wizard's mouth. The cold potion filled Harry's mouth and he involuntarily swallowed.

"Do not worry, Harry," Voldemort cooed in his chilling voice, "it's merely a Blood-Replenishing Potion. I can't have my future pet dying on me, now can I?"

"Do it," Bellatrix commanded and the Death Eater who had force fed Harry began tearing off The Boy Who Lived's blood soaked clothing. Harry's shirt was ripped off and tossed to the ground next to him. Even if he wasn't under the Full Body Bind, Harry realized that he would've been far too weak from blood loss to struggle against the Death Eater.

While the Death Eater stripped the injured wizard's trousers and pants, Voldemort plucked Harry's glasses off of his face and dropped them on the discarded shirt. The Dark Lord then held up Harry's wand and caressed it almost lovingly before snapping it in half. A triumphant smile danced across his thin lips and he threw the ruined wand on the pile of bloodied clothes.

"In one day's time, leave these things in a conspicuous place," the Dark Lord ordered, indicating Harry's clothes and wand to the unknown Death Eater. He turned to Bellatrix and added, "Tomorrow, we'll begin the preparation for the ritual."

Voldemort smiled at Harry once more before he turned and slithered out of Harry's view, leaving him naked and alone in the cell.

**x**

**x**

The next morning, Hermione awoke from a dreamless sleep to find Hedwig tapping gently on her bedroom window. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, the witch climbed out of bed and padded over to the window in her bare feet and opened it to allow Hedwig to hop in. Hermione retrieved Harry's post and quickly read it.

In it, Harry confirmed their plans to meet at the Dursley home on his birthday. She placed the note down and was surprised to find Hedwig still in her room. Usually, Hedwig only waited around after delivering her post if Harry wanted a reply. Hermione jotted a quick note on the back of Harry's letter;

_"Dear Harry,_

_I'll see you on your birthday._

_Love from,_

_Hermione."_

She felt rather silly writing such a simple note, normally she could write volumes, but there was really nothing else to say. Hermione was surprised once again to see that Hedwig hadn't left, even after she attached her reply to the owl's leg.

"Go on girl; go back to Harry," she requested kindly.

The snowy owl looked at Hermione and the witch was stunned to see something akin to sadness in her amber eyes. Hermione wondered why Harry's pet was so sad and why she wouldn't leave to go back to him.

"Oh no," she murmured as realization dawned upon her.

Without a stray thought of concern to the fact that she was wearing nothing beside her nightgown, Hermione Apparated directly into the Burrow's kitchen, startling Molly.

"Hermione, what do you think you're - ?" a startled Molly began to lecture the younger witch about Apparation and proper etiquette, but stopped when she saw the fear and panic in Hermione's face. "What's wrong dear?"

"Harry's in trouble!"

**x**

**x**

After Mrs. Weasley woke Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Ginny, Hermione explained that Hedwig wouldn't deliver her post to Harry.

"So what?" asked Ginny, a little peeved that she was forced to wake up so early. "Maybe Hedwig was tired and didn't want to fly just yet."

"Fine then, send Pigwidgeon to Harry," demanded Hermione angrily. She didn't like how coolly Ginny was taking the situation. After all, Ginny was Harry's girlfriend until just recently. In Hermione's opinion, the younger witch should've been immediately worried about Harry, much like she herself was.

"I'll go get Pig," announced Ron, lumbering up the stairs to his room.

"Don't worry, dear," Molly comforted Hermione by putting her arm around the younger witch. "I'm sure it's nothing to fret over."

But Hermione couldn't take Mrs. Weasley's words to heart; she was imagining the worst. She was positive that Harry had lied about meeting her and Ron on his birthday and had run off to go search for the Horcruxes by himself. She imagined that he had told Hedwig not to look for him in case one of his friends had decided to follow the owl. Hermione feared that Harry would end up dead if she wasn't there to help him like she had always done in the past. She had to find him right away so that she could be at his side to help him — after she scolded and berated him for being so pigheaded, of course.

Ron reappeared with his tiny owl clutched in his fist like a ball. Pig hooted excitedly while his head pivoted wildly, looking around the room. Hermione dashed over to Ron and snatched Pigwidgeon from him.

"Go find Harry," she ordered frantically. If Hermione was right and Harry had ordered his owl not to look for him, Pig could still find him.

The miniature owl took to the air and flew in a circle about the kitchen three full times before landing on Ron's shoulder and hooted.

"Oh dear," Molly sighed miserably. She shared a concerned look with her husband.

"What? What does this mean?" demanded Hermione.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley hesitated to answer. The youngest members of the family grew nervous and pensive as well, as if they knew what would cause a post owl not to seek out the recipient. It was something that magical families would sometimes run into and therefore they knew the reason. But Hermione, still a relative newcomer to this world, didn't know the implication.

"Tell me!" the brunette witch insisted.

Again, they remained silent. It was like they were afraid to say what they were all thinking.

Arthur stood up and walked over to the fire place.

"Mrs. Weasley… M-Molly?" Hermione pleaded pitifully while Arthur tossed a pinch of green Floo powder into the flames.

"Don't worry, dear," Molly attempted to sooth the younger witch's worries. "It could be that Harry is just in an area that has Anti-Tracking Charms and the owls can't locate him."

"Remus Lupin," called out Arthur after he stuck his head in the now green flames.

"Why would he do that?" Ginny asked. Hermione noticed that the irritability that Ginny was feeling earlier had been finally replaced with concern.

"Maybe he wanted some alone time," offered the Weasley matriarch. Hermione didn't need to hear the warble in Molly's voice to know that even she didn't believe her own words. The tears welling up in Mrs. Weasley's eyes told Hermione what they all thought had happened.

"Sorry to disturb you at this hour Remus," Arthur said into the fire.

"_'Some time alone'_? That's a load of tripe," Ron shot back at his mother. "Those Muggles Harry lives with have been ignoring him the past two summers. All he needs to do for some _'alone time'_ is go to his room! The Muggles stay as far away from him as they can!"

Hermione took Ron's hand in hers and commanded "Not now, Ron," firmly. She knew that Ron would often strike out at people whenever he felt sad, worried, or frightened. Hermione recognized that he shouldn't be this way with his mother, especially when she was trying to comfort them. Besides, his misplaced anger wouldn't help matters.

"It's about Harry," Arthur continued to Remus through the floo connection. "He's in trouble."

**x**

**x**

The morning sun blazed into the young man's eyes and woke him from a restless sleep. Groaning pitifully, Draco Malfoy sat up. He had been forced to sleep on the bare earth like a common vagrant for the past three nights. Sleeping on the hard ground had wreaked havoc on his body, leaving him sore and bruised.

If someone had told Draco two years ago that he would be relegated to less than an errand boy who would have to sleep out in the open on the ground like an animal, he would've laughed at them. That was something that he knew to be beneath his stature and due. He was Draco Malfoy, son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy and one of the most prestigious families in Brittan, the most important student in Slytherin, and therefore deserving of only the best the world had to offer. He was entitled to opulent settings and rich food, not lying on the rocky ground eating cold soup out of a can.

But ever since he and Professor Snape had arrived at the Dark Lord's castle after they fled from Hogwarts, Draco knew he was no longer the prized Slytherin prince he used to be. Everywhere he went within the Dark Lord's castle, the other Death Eaters glowered and whisper threateningly at him. Occasionally, Draco would find an object, a chair or lamp, in his small, cramped room that was hexed in such a way that if he brushed up against the object, even slightly, he would either feel intense pain or perhaps even die. Draco knew the reason for this animosity and hatred; he had been given a task by their Master and he had failed not once, but three times. Neither the poisoned elf wine nor the cursed bracelet failed to kill the Muggle-loving fool, Dumbledore. Draco wasn't naive; he realized that if Professor Snape hadn't stepped in and killed Dumbledore, the other Death Eaters would've murdered Draco on the spot for his failure to the Dark Lord.

So, when Macnair had given Draco his orders for this mission, his first since arriving at the Dark Lord's castle, Draco jumped at the opportunity, eager to prove himself and to make up for his transgression against his Master. Then he heard what he had to do; stay under an invisibility cloak and hold a satchel; nothing more than an errand boy. It was a duty for someone along the lines of an imbecile like Crabbe or Goyle. But Draco couldn't complain, because he had realized how far he had fallen. He was no longer the Slytherin Prince, but he was now considered an equal to those buffoons Goyle and Crabbe; a lowly and insignificant cog in a great machine.

As he looked up at the castle that loomed over him, a sense of hatred filled his heart. He so despised Hogwarts and all it stood for. It could have been the greatest school in the entire world if it weren't for the Mudbloods and blood traitors. Draco used to dream of the day when he could leave this place – at how he would've felt an overwhelming sense of joy at bidding the school and its soiled reputation goodbye. However, when the time had finally come, he was too busy running for his life to feel anything other than fear. Now he found himself forced to sit at the base of its walls waiting on a dirty rat. Oh, how he wished he could burn the castle to the ground.

Scratching noises of tiny clawed feet on stone announced that the rat was about to show up again. Draco waited patiently by the crack in the wall for the filthy creature to appear. In a moment, a grey rat with a silver-metallic paw came out, a large reptilian scale held in its teeth.

Wormtail, the rat who was actually a wizard, dropped the scale on the ground and quickly scurried back into the crack. He'd return with another scale, perhaps two in an hour or so, like he had done so many times since their arrival at Hogwarts a few days before. Draco had stopped counting how many times Wormtail had appeared out of the tiny opening only to travel back through it somewhere into the bowels of the castle. Grumbling to himself, Draco leaned over and picked the scale off of the ground and tossed it in the satchel with the dozens of other scales.

Some of the scales were as small as Draco's thumbnail, while others were large enough to cover half of his palm. Draco had no idea what kind of creature Wormtail was taking the scales from, but he hoped that he'd never have to meet it. Nor did Draco know why the Dark Lord wanted these scales to be collected, but he knew better than to ask.

**x**

**x**

It hurt Pansy deeply as she watched Draco rot away over the past few months. At school, the burden of his mission weighed heavily on him. She knew that whatever he was doing was dreadfully important and wished that she could've helped him. But Draco had too much pride to ask for help from Pansy. Neither would he accept any if she had offered. So Pansy watched and silently supported him as best she could. It had broken her heart to see the anguish that ate away at him as he tried to accomplish the unknown task the Dark Lord had given him. When she discovered that this task was to assassinate the Muggle loving fool Dumbledore, Pansy suddenly realized how heavy a burden Draco had carried. Such a daunting feat seemed impossible. Dumbledore was so powerful and skilled that even the Dark Lord feared him. But since the night Dumbledore was assassinated and his arrival at their Master's castle, Draco's condition had not improved. In fact, it had worsened.

Pansy saw how the other Death Eaters glared at him as he passed them in the halls or the dining chamber. She also knew that they threatened him regularly; she had a suspicion that Draco may have been attacked or hexed at least once. But again, Draco was too proud and could not admit such things to her.

It was clear that Draco was not up to the task of being a Death Eater; he lacked the necessary resolve needed to do their Master's bidding. But he had joined the Dark Lord's ranks and now he could not leave. One did not just walk away and leave the Dark Lord's services. The only way one left was through death, whether at the hands of the Dark Lord's enemies or by the Master himself.

Pansy could not bear to lose her Draco. She had truly grown to love him and his noble spirit over the past few years. She dreamed of spending the rest of her life with him and passing on their dignified pureblood traditions onto their children. To make her dream come true, Pansy realized that she had to make sure Draco survived. He was too weak to make it for much longer; either he would die foolishly at the hands of some Auror, or eliminated by a Death Eater on the Dark Lord's orders. For a brief moment, she mulled over the impossible idea of taking Draco and running away, but soon realized that the Dark Lord would hunt them down for their betrayal and kill both of them. Therefore, the only way that Pansy could ensure Draco's survival was to turn him into a proper Death Eater. To do so, she would have to force Draco past his hesitations, fears, and apprehensions. It would be difficult, but Pansy believed that she could do it. Her dream of her and Draco's life together gave her the strength.

She had approached her Master with a request early one day shortly after Draco went away on his secret mission with Wormtail. Her knees were shaking as did her voice when she asked her Master to be assigned to Draco to help him become a worthy servant.

"Why would you do that?" Voldemort asked coldly.

"He is of no use to you in his current state, Sire," Pansy replied humbly. Her warbling voice echoed off the cold, stone walls of the Dark Lord's chambers. "I could help him serve you properly."

"You misunderstand me, Pansy. Draco is hopeless," the Dark Lord corrected. "Why would you waste your time on him?"

Pansy knew that she would have to tell her Master the truth; to do otherwise would end her life painfully.

"I love him, Master," she answered without shame.

Voldemort chuckled; the girl actually believed that she was in love with Draco. Pansy had much to learn; Voldemort knew there was no such thing as love; the emotion was only a poet's fantasy. There was only lust and power; to physically satisfy oneself and gain power over others. But he realized that Pansy had what Draco didn't: dedication. He knew by the look in Pansy's eyes that she had the potential to be a brilliant Death Eater much like Bellatrix; viciously ruthless and blindly loyal. Perhaps she could sway Draco into bettering himself and in the process, better herself as well.

"Very well, Pansy," Voldemort announced and the witch's face lit up. "As you know, Draco is currently on a mission, but when he returns, he is yours. I expect him to overcome his weakness. A week after he returns, you, Draco, and some of your friends will have to prove your mettle. I hope that I do not have to warn you about the consequences if you were to fail."

"No, Master," Pansy said with a mixture of fear over her Master's threat and accomplishment for being able to help her love. "I will make you proud, Sire!"

**x**

**x**

Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, both looking like they had been prematurely woken up from a deep and restful sleep and had very little time to properly freshen up, appeared in the back garden of number four Privet Drive with a crack. Without saying a word, they both marched up to the back door. Remus waved his wand. The door unlocked and flew open with a loud bang.

"Good Heavens!" Petunia Dursley screamed in shock and dropped the pan of bacon she was frying, sending scalding grease all over the kitchen floor.

"Where is he?" asked Remus in a polite, yet curt manner.

"Get out of here!" hollered Vernon whose face was a nasty shade of purple due to rage.

"Shut it!" commanded Tonks.

"How dare you–" Harry's behemoth of an Uncle began but stopped abruptly when Remus leveled his wand at the obese man's throat.

"Tonks, go check his room," Remus requested. "I'll keep these fine people company."

The pink-haired witch made her way out of the kitchen and stomped up the stairs. After a moment, she called out; "Remus get up here."

Leaving the Dursleys in the kitchen, Remus dashed up the stairs to join his lover. As he was about to enter the smallest bedroom, Remus could hear Vernon shout something about phoning the police. Vernon's threat meant little to Remus, he and Tonks would be gone before long.

Upon entering the small room, the grey haired wizard noticed that Harry's school trunk was there but was conspicuously empty. There were no books, no potion supplies, nor clothes in the compartment.

"His broom's gone as well," Tonks informed with dread in her voice.

"I'll contact the Ministry," Remus stated.

"What're you going to tell them?" asked Tonks.

"That Harry's missing and in danger," said Remus gravely. By the looks of the room, it appeared that there was no struggle and that Harry had more than likely left by his own will. But the fact that no owl could locate Harry bothered Remus greatly.

**x**

**x**

Lord Voldemort, the most feared wizard in decades, was in an extremely good humor. He was sipping some wine while sitting on his ornate throne when he called for Bellatrix.

"Yes, my Master," Bellatrix said while she bowed low, her head on the floor in order to show her Dark Lord the proper respect he deserved.

"It is time to begin preparing our guest for the ritual," Voldemort said as he swirled the wine around in the goblet.

"Yes, my Lord," she replied with unhidden anticipation.

Bellatrix walked out of the throne room while bowing to her Lord. She clicked her fingers at the three Death Eaters who were standing outside the chamber. As she walked down the hall, they fell in behind her. The witch led them through several winding corridors and down six flights of stairs into the dungeon to a heavy wooden door. An unmasked Death Eater named Smyth waited patiently outside this door with a very old and tattered book in his hands.

"Is it time?" Smyth asked hopefully.

"Yes," replied Bellatrix and the man clutched the book to his chest excitedly.

Harry could hear the voices outside his cell. He had woken up just a few minutes previously in the darkness naked, sore, and weak from his ordeal. He crawled into the corner in a vain attempt to hide.

One of the three Death Eaters who had followed Bellatrix threw open the door and the light from the corridor harshly filled Harry's cell. Harry tried to scurry away; he wasn't a coward, but he had no wand and he was still too weak to fend the three incoming Death Eaters off. But it was too late. The Death Eaters all shouted _"Petrificus Totalus!"_ and Harry was hit with thee hexes. The young man's body went rigid as a board and slammed painfully onto the floor.

Bellatrix strolled in and with a wave of her wand, the torches ignited, illuminating the room. She then conjured a small table next to the slab where she had previously slashed open Harry's throat. The witch pulled a package out of her robes as the three Death Eaters tossed Harry's stiff body on the slab. Placing the package on the table, Bellatrix opened the box and made a show of removing a vicious looking knife from its depths. Harry rationalized that it was some sort of ceremonial blade because it was too ornately decorated and curved in such an unusual way to be used in everyday situations. She caressed the fine blade as Smyth opened the book he was holding to a marked page. The unmasked Death Eater held the book in front of his chest so Bellatrix could read it. Harry was unable to see the contents clearly, but it appeared to have a diagram of a person on its pages.

After she studied it for a long time, Bellatrix turned to Harry and smiled. "I'm going to enjoy this oh so much," she stated, her voice dripping with sadistic humor.

The evil witch leaned over Harry's torso and pierced his flesh just above his left nipple with the blade. Harry forced back a scream as Bellatrix dragged the tip of the blade in a line across his chest, cutting through his flesh and muscle. He didn't want to give Bellatrix the satisfaction of hearing him scream.

When she was finished gouging a line to Harry's right nipple, Bellatrix stopped and checked the book once more. She traced her finger along one of the diagrams as if she was trying to memorize it. While she studied the book, the deep cut in Harry's chest oozed blood. Apparently satisfied that she had memorized the diagram, Bellatrix turned back to Harry. She shoved the blade deep into his left shoulder and began to carve away.

Harry redoubled his efforts not to scream, but when the witch's knife scraped against his bone, he failed. He screamed through gritted teeth as Bellatrix gouged a line into his shoulder.

**x**

**x**

Hermione was sick with grief over Harry. It ate away at her belly like a ravenous beast. Her flesh was cold and clammy and she felt as if she was going to faint at any second.

After Arthur had contacted Remus, Molly told Hermione to sit down somewhere and try to calm herself. Ron was in a state as well, but not nearly as bad as his girlfriend. They both sat in silence on his bed, trying to give each other whatever comfort they could muster.

Hermione was mulling over the possibilities of what could have happened to Harry. The most logical conclusion that she came to was that he was being pig-headed and had decided to go hunt for the Horcruxes himself. And right now, he was probably at a place where Voldemort had hidden one of his relics and it had Anti-Tracking Charms around it. Having heard Harry's harrowing tale about the cave and the traps around it, Hermione feared that Harry was either hurt or worse. An image flashed in her mind of Harry alone, lying in some dark and damp tunnel, hurt and bleeding. She forced the unpleasant picture out of her mind.

Ron was worried about his black-haired friend, but Harry had been in tight spots before and it wasn't unusual for him to escape permanent harm by skill or sheer luck. So Ron figured that Harry would probably be banged up after whatever adventure he was on, but he'd okay. He reckoned and hoped that Harry would be in St. Mungo's no later than tomorrow afternoon.

The gangly red-head looked over to check on his girlfriend to see how she was fairing. She was pale and had red rings around her eyes from worry and crying. Because she had rushed over to the Burrow right after waking up, Hermione was still wearing nothing but her nightgown. Ron couldn't believe his luck; he could actually see the outline of her nipples and areolas. The sight excited him.

The red-haired wizard berated himself internally for thinking such things at a time like this. Harry was missing and ogling Hermione was in bad taste. He forced himself not to look below her chin, settling his eyes on her lips. Hermione alternated between chewing on her lower lip and sticking it out in a pout. Ron wanted to take her lip in between his; he desired to kiss her right there on his bed. However, even he could tell that Hermione would be in no mood for such things. She would probably say it would be inappropriate with Harry in danger.

But Ron couldn't help but wonder when it would be appropriate? He and Hermione had been dating for a few weeks now and they had not yet progressed past holding hands and light, closed mouth kisses. This was something that made Ron upset. When he was with Lavender, they had gone well into snogging territory on their first date – hell, they weren't even dating at the time when they had started snogging, having just hooked up after a Quidditch match. But Hermione was insisting that they take it slow and shouldn't rush anything. And now this blasted thing with Harry came up. If Harry didn't show up soon; Ron would never get to do the things with Hermione that he had done with Lavender.

But Ron told himself that he was being selfish and irrational; so he decided to honor Hermione's wishes. For now, he'd just show his support and hold her hand as they sat on his bed.

**x**

**x**

Somewhere in the depths of Voldemort's castle, Severus Snape toiled over a half dozen simmering and bubbling cauldrons. Snape was commanded to make useful potions like Polyjuice for undercover operations, Amortentia for blackmailing prominent government officials, Veritaserum for interrogation, and Felix Felicis for particularly dangerous missions, along with dozens of other useful potions.

Ever since he had escaped after eliminating Dumbledore, he had been sequestered in this castle's Potion's Laboratory. His Master had barely bid him welcome before ordering Snape to the lab to brew potions for future use.

The fact that the Dark Lord had not celebrated the assassination of Dumbledore nor awarded Severus as his due concerned the potion master slightly. Severus had hoped, and expected, that his Master would make him his confidante and entrust his plans with him.

But the Dark Lord's motives were often clouded in mystery. Perhaps he would yet reward Dumbledore's assassin. Severus trusted this would be the case. He turned his attention to the task at hand and swirled the contents of the cauldron.

**x**

**x**

"Ron, Hermione," Molly called some time later from the kitchen. "Remus and Tonks are here!"

Hermione bolted out of Ron's room and ran down the stairs like a shot. Her bare feet slapped against the floor as she rushed into the kitchen while Ron started to hurry down from his room.

"Where is he?" Hermione demanded frantically.

"We don't know," Remus said.

Hermione covered her mouth to quell a sob. After finally catching up with her, Ron put his arm around Hermione to show his support.

"It looks like he left voluntarily though," Tonks added. "Some of his school supplies are gone, along with his broom. There were no signs of a struggle either."

"What are we gonna do?" asked Ron apprehensively.

"We've already been to the Ministry," Remus told them. "Normally, they'd wait three days before they start looking for a missing person because they sometimes show up. However, seeing that Harry's been a target most of his life, they've made an exception."

"Not only are they sending out specially trained owls," Tonks added. "But they've initiated several advanced Tracking Charms and a dozen MLE officers are beginning to investigate and search for Harry."

"What can we do?" asked Hermione, eager to help in any way she could.

"You wait patiently," Tonks replied with uncharacteristic seriousness. "We have skilled professionals looking for him right now. The best thing for you to do is stay out of the way. If you try to help, you may throw off the investigation. Or if you go meddling in places in hopes of finding Harry, you might get hurt."

"Do you understand?" Remus asked, his voice told Hermione and Ron that they couldn't argue.

"Yes, sir," both Ron and Hermione answered.

That night, Hermione returned to her home and had a horrible dream. Harry was somewhere dark and cold, pleading with her to find and save him.

**x**

**x**

After what seemed like hours and hours, Harry groggily woke up. He had blacked out while that bitch Bellatrix was cutting up his shoulder. His chest and arm were throbbing. With his right hand, Harry touched his left shoulder. He could tell that they must've stopped the bleeding magically but it was obvious that his wound was going to leave a very deep, ugly scar. He traced the spiral pattern that Bellatrix had carved into his flesh. It was too perfect and exact to be random; as if the book she was reading had informed her to do the damage in a precise way for some unknown reason. He noticed that the gouge on his chest was similarly exact, but in a different pattern.

Without warning, the door to his cell swung open; Bellatrix and the man with the book strolled in.

"He shouldn't be allowed to move around," Smyth commented in a whiny and annoyed way. "He might damage the runes and symbols if he does."

"Good point," agreed Bellatrix and she smiled at Harry's naked body while he huddled in the corner. "Cummins, Dobson," she barked and two Death Eaters came into the cell. "Put Potter under a Full Body Bind constantly. Refresh it every fifteen minutes throughout the day and night. Make sure you tell the other shifts to do so as well."

One of the Death Eaters complied with her orders and Harry's body became rigid once more. The other guard asked; "How long should we keep this up?"

"Until we perform the ritual," Bellatrix answered. "Eight to ten weeks at the very least."

The two Death Eaters threw Harry's stiff body back onto the slab and Bellatrix pulled out a rolled up newspaper from her robes.

"You've made headlines again, wee-baby Potter," she taunted in her sickly childish voice. "I'll read it for you, seeing that you don't have your spectacles;

_"'The Chosen One is Missing!'"_ she read the article aloud. _"'Harry Potter (a.k.a. "The Chosen One") has disappeared. A school friend of his reported him missing early yesterday morning and the Magical Law Enforcement (MLE) has launched an extensive search. A spokes-wizard has told the Daily Prophet that the MLE has begun to scour the Muggle neighborhood where Potter lives and has also begun casting various Tracking Charms.'"_

Bellatrix laughed viciously as she tore the paper to shreds in front of Harry's face.

"Not only is this castle under the Fidelius Charm, but it has dozens of Anti-Tracking wards around it for extra security," she informed Harry. "They will never find you. My wee-baby Potter is stuck here with me!"

Harry ignored her words and held onto the small sliver of hope that someone would rescue him. Bellatrix cackled like the evil witch she was and pulled the ritualistic knife out of her robes. She spent the better part of the next hour copying the spiral pattern from Harry's left shoulder onto his right as he screamed.

**x**

**x**

George Weasley went to open up the front door of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes for business early the next morning. He had heard the terrible news about Harry from his mother the previous night, but he and his twin brother had decided to open up the shop even if their unofficial adopted brother and silent business partner had gone missing. They were hoping against hope that Harry had just decided to get away for a while and that he would show up soon.

After George opened the front door, he noticed a pile of rags on the street in front of the shop. He ventured out to take a closer look and was shocked that they looked like heavily bloodstained clothes. Two items had been carefully placed on top of the pile. The first was a somewhat familiar wand that was snapped in two. But the second item was immediately identifiable to George; they were Harry's glasses.

"Oh no," George muttered with a broken heart.

**To be continued…**

**Author's Notes:** Please do not feel that the lack of violence in this chapter is a precursor for future installments. THIS IS A VERY VIOLENT STORY! The next chapters will contain graphic violence (including mutilation, violent rape and forced incest)! And it escalates from there. BE WARNED: THERE WILL BE GRAPHIC RAPE SCENES IN FUTURE CHAPTERS COMMITTED _**BY**_ AND INFLICTED _**ON**_ CANNON CHARACTERS!

Another side note; this story will be what is commonly referred to as a Harem fic. Meaning that Harry will have multiple partners at the same time and there will be bi-sexual femme-slash ahead (this means there will be multiple partners, lesbian, and bisexual themes and scenes).

Also, this is a relatively slow moving fic, especially compared to a few demon-Harry pieces out there. For example; the demon aspect of the Demon-Harry won't show up for many chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Two

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and nonconsensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major cannon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from cannon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

_Daily Prophet Special Edition:_

_THE BOY WHO LIVED IS DEAD!_

_A set of blood soaked clothes was found outside Weasley Wizarding Wheezes in Diagon Alley early yesterday morning, along with a pair of glasses and a snapped wand_._ All items as well as the blood on the clothes have been confirmed as belonging to Harry Potter_.

_An unnamed Healer at St_._ Mungo's stated that based on the enormous amount of blood on the clothes, that Potter would've surely died unless he received immediate medical attention_.

_When asked about the meaning of Potter's glasses and his broken wand, an anonymous M. L. E. officer has speculated off the record that it could be a symbolic meaning of Potter's death_.

_Even with this evidence, the Ministry has refused to officially comment on Potter's apparent demise and is still considering him missing and continues to search for the young wizard_.

In her bedroom, Hermione Granger sobbed into her pillow after reading the article in the Prophet, while the Weasleys cried as a family at the Burrow.

**x**

**x**

Harry would've been trembling in agony while Bellatrix cut tiny lines into the sides of his neck if his body wasn't frozen solid by the Full Body Bind. It felt as if she was writing joined letters in a straight line from the top of his shoulders, up his neck, to just below his ears. She had completed the right side of his neck earlier in the day and was now repeating it on the left.

Even though he couldn't see properly without his glasses, Harry knew that Bellatrix, the bitch, was enjoying his suffering immensely. Bellatrix would occasionally purr and moan while dragging the blade's tip through his flesh. It was clear that the bitch got off on inflicting pain; Harry's intense suffering clearly pleased her in a primal way.

Day after day, Bellatrix continued to cut away at Harry, obviously following some kind of direction detailed in that blasted old book the other Death Eater held. She had spent the better part of one day cutting tiny symbols into the side of his ribcage, and another day carving what felt like circles, lines, squares, and other simple shapes into his chest.

Twice a day, Bellatrix would pause in her work so that a Death Eater could pour a nutrient potion into Harry's mouth so that he wouldn't starve to death. And throughout each session, one of the Death Eaters would regularly force a dose of Blood-Replenishing Potion down his throat whenever his blood loss became too much.

**x**

**x**

It had been eight days since Harry's clothes were found and most everyone believed he was dead. Ron and Hermione had gotten dozens of notes of condolence from former classmates. Even Molly believed Harry was dead – she went so far as to erect a tiny shrine in his memory.

"HE'S NOT DEAD!" screamed Hermione as an owl flew into her bedroom carrying another commiseration post. Hermione was positive that Harry was alive; she couldn't say how she knew, but she was sure of it in her heart.

She wanted to throttle the next person who dared to tell her that Harry was dead. But unfortunately, she couldn't throttle the Ministry.

Another owl flew in through her open window and dropped off the morning edition of The Daily Prophet in front of Hermione. The headline cut through the young witch.

"_Ministry Confirms Potter's Death!_

_Eight days after the Chosen One's blood soaked clothes were discovered in Diagon Alley, the Ministry has officially confirmed that Harry Potter is dead_._ After a week of investigation and failed Tracking Charms, the Ministry has declared that Harry Potter, the boy responsible for ending the first war, has become yet another victim in this second war_."

Hermione crumpled up the paper and tossed it into the dustbin. She Apparated to the garden in front of the Burrow as decorum demanded and knocked on the door.

"Oh, hullo Hermione dear," Molly greeted her sadly. It was apparent the older witch was still mourning Harry's alleged death. "Ron's in his room."

After saying hello to Mrs. Weasley, Hermione walked up to Ron's room. She pushed open the door and demanded; "Get ready. We're leaving."

"Where are we going?" Ron asked irately. He found it rather bothersome that Hermione tended to be so bossy.

"We're either going to search for Harry or look for the Horcruxes ourselves," informed Hermione.

"What makes you so sure Harry's alive? It's been over a week. Even the Ministry says he's dead."

"Ron, Voldemort has been hunting Harry since he was a baby," Hermione explained, with Ron flinching at the evil wizard's name. Hermione ignored her boyfriend's childish reaction and forged ahead. "Harry has faced off against Voldemort in one way or another more times than anyone beside Dumbledore; everyone knows this. If he had finally killed Harry, Voldemort would do more than just dump his clothes in the street. Since Harry has been such a thorn in his side, Voldemort would've felt the need to put his head on a pike for all to see to prove his superiority."

"Oh," Ron muttered as he realized that Hermione was right. "But how will we search for Harry or the Horcruxes? Where do we even begin?"

Hermione paused before admitting dismally; "I don't know." She slowly sat on his bed and slumped her shoulders in defeat before crying out her fear and frustration into her hands. "We have to do something," she sobbed. "Harry's in trouble and nobody is helping."

Feeling the same sense of despair, Ron sat next to Hermione. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder and let her cry, not knowing what else to do.

**x**

**x**

The next day, Rufus Scrimgeour announced that he would be holding a major press conference. Every reporter in the country was buzzing with anticipation. They were all assuming that his announcement had to do with the murder of Potter. In a way, they were right.

"Thank you all for coming," Scrimgeour greeted the crowd of reporters gathered in the lobby of the Ministry of Magic. Not being one to dance around the subject or mince words, he announced, "We have decided to reopen Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,"

The reporters began to scribble furiously on parchments as Scrimgeour continued speaking.

"Wizarding England must take a stand against the threats and tyranny of He Who Must Not Be Named. We will show him and his kind that we will not be cowed! And living our lives the way we want to, not the way he demands, is the best way to do so!"

"What extra precautions is the Ministry planning on taking?" one wizard called out of the murmur of his fellow reporters.

The Minister replied; "Several; first, the section of the castle that contains the magical room through which the Death Eaters were able to infiltrate, the_ 'Room of Requirement' _I believe it's called, has been sealed off. Both by wards, including Notice-Me-Not and Compulsion Charms, as well as physically, by bricking up the corridor so no one can approach it.

"We're also going to recruit more M. L. E. personnel and place a division of officers to patrol the castle and Hogsmeade, day and night to prevent any further attacks."

"But what if You Know Who should attack again, even with the extra security?" another reporter questioned.

"Besides the extra security to act as a deterrent, I'm positive that he has no reason to attack Hogwarts anymore," answered Scrimgeour. "The sad truth of it is that both Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter are dead. In the past, You Know Who felt threatened by Dumbledore and challenged by Potter. In fact, we know that the reason for the recent attack on Hogwarts was to kill Dumbledore for this very reason. Unfortunately, they succeeded and we lost a great man in Dumbledore. And, tragically, Potter was killed just a few days ago, most likely because of his history with You Know Who. Now that Potter and Dumbledore are no longer there, You Know Who and his Death Eaters have no reason to target the school. It pains me to speak of their deaths in such a way, but it's the truth. And because of this, He Who Must Not Be Named won't feel the need to attack Hogwarts. I can personally guarantee your children's absolute safety!" he finished boldly.

**x**

**x**

The news of the Minister's declaration spread like wildfire. Households across wizarding Britain were all talking about what was said. Some were bolstered by Scrimgeour's words about standing up to the Death Eaters and were proud to be sending their children back to Hogwarts in defiance of You Know Who. Others were hesitant and somewhat frightened, but they were encouraged by the Minister's personal guarantee and felt their children would be safe at the school.

Yet many more had no intention of ever letting their children go back. Some because they had no faith in the government or its promises and didn't want to risk the lives of their sons and daughters. But there were a number of families who wouldn't send their children to that school simply because it would anger their Master, Lord Voldemort.

**x**

**x**

Hermione had been mulling over Scrimgeour's announcement regarding Hogwarts all day. Learning was one of the greatest joys in her life. And no doubt Hermione would become Head Girl; a position that came with respect and would open many doors for her in the future.

But she had a duty to do; a duty that overshadowed her scholarly ambitions. She had to find Harry. If she was locked up in that castle, she wouldn't be able to do so. It's true that Hogwarts had one of the greatest libraries in Europe, perhaps the world, but all the information stacked within the shelves would do very little to help her find her missing friend. Maybe, after Harry was safe, she'd return to the library and browse through the countless tomes for clues on how to find and safely destroy Voldemort's Horcruxes.

With a heavy yet determined heart, Hermione wrote a letter of apology to Headmistress McGonagall, stating her intentions of not returning to Hogwarts for her seventh year. Hermione attached the post to Hedwig's leg and politely asked the owl to deliver it. Hedwig hooted and flew out the window. Now that telling McGonagall was out of the way, Hermione had to go share her decision with her parents and then the Weasleys.

**x**

**x**

The Death Eaters who were stationed inside the Dark Lord's throne room for his security were fearful for their lives. Their Master was upon his throne reading _The Daily Prophet's_ report of the blood-traitor Scrimgeour's defiance. When they had heard the news of the Minister's announcement of reopening Hogwarts, many Death Eaters had been shocked and appalled by the blood traitor's words. The Death Eaters were positive that their Lord would be furious and would likely take out his frustrations on them before ordering Scrimgeour's death.

However, once he was finished reading, the Dark Lord carefully folded the newspaper as if he didn't want to crumple it so that he could read it again and placed it on a small table next to him. Their Master then strolled out of the throne room without a word. One of the Death Eaters thought that he even saw a small smile on the Dark Lord's lips.

Voldemort walked to his future pet's cell, humming softly to himself. He hoped that he would not be intruding on Bellatrix's preparation of Potter. Thankfully, the impromptu visit hadn't corresponded with the only time Potter's agony was postponed. The single respite Potter ever saw each day was during his feeding time; where the bare minimum food and nutrients were forced down his throat through various potions. No, much to Voldemort's delight, he had arrived while Bellatrix was working her blade on the boy's skin. To Voldemort, this day was growing more and more enjoyable.

The silver knife sliced through Potter's flesh and muscles to create something beautiful. Voldemort was pleased that he chose Bellatrix for this task; she had a truly artistic eye. The runes that crisscrossed the boy's chest had already started to scar; the angry red lines stood out on his sickly pale skin. It was also obvious that the boy's body had started to atrophy; his muscles were wilting since he had been in a constant Full-Body Bind for nearly ten days now. Voldemort speculated that by the time of the ritual, Potter will have literally wasted away to nothing more than skin and bones.

The Dark Lord watched Bellatrix as she bent over Potter so that she could better see her artwork. She was sculpting a kind of Celtic knot design starting from the spiral pattern on Potter's shoulder, down his arm to his wrist.

In addition to the smell of Potter's fear, blood, and pain, the scent of Bellatrix's arousal filled Voldemort's nose. Her musky odor wafted in the air. Voldemort could tell that she was truly enjoying her task on a very private level.

**x**

**x**

Her parents had been disappointed, but they realized that Hermione was an intelligent young woman who knew what she was doing. After getting her parents' acceptance of her decision, Hermione Apparated to the Weasley home so that she could tell them of her decision. Before she had even approached the front door, she could hear Molly's voice. The older witch was shouting in anger.

"I will not have three of my sons drop out!" she yelled sternly. "Fred and George may have done so, but I refuse to let you follow in their footsteps!"

"I'm not following them!" Hermione heard Ron shout back.

Hermione knocked on the door and Molly flung it open. Hermione was quite surprised to see a number of people standing in the kitchen besides Arthur, Ron and Ginny. Remus and Tonks were standing by the back door, Moody was sitting at the table across from Kingsley, while McGonagall and Hagrid stood by the hearth. There were two others that Hermione didn't recognize by the sink. One was a short witch around forty in a dusty-grey set of robes and the other was an elderly wizard draped with a red cloak.

"Am I interrupting?" asked Hermione tentatively.

"No, dear," Molly replied, her voice quavered with anger. "We were having an Order meeting when Ronald announced his decision not to return to Hogwarts to finish his schooling. He then had the audacity to ask to join the Order."

"Is it prudent to discuss the Order in front of this girl?" the short witch in grey robes asked suspiciously. Her beady eyes narrowed on Hermione while she spoke. Hermione stared back at the witch. Maybe it was because of the way she was looking at her, but Hermione didn't like this woman.

"Don't worry Martha; she's okay," Remus affirmed but the short witch continued to keep her eyes on Hermione.

"Hermione, please talk some sense into Ron," Molly requested. "Make him change his mind and go back to Hogwarts."

"Actually Mrs. Weasley," Hermione began**,** "I'm not going back either."

McGonagall dropped her tea cup out of shock and it shattered on the ground.

"I'm sorry Professor," Hermione apologized**,** "I wrote you a post earlier today. There's something vitally important that I must do."

"What in heaven's name is more important than returning to Hogwarts and finishing your education?" McGonagall demanded while many of the people in the room looked at Hermione in astonishment. Never in a hundred years would they have suspected that Hermione Granger would drop out of school.

"I have to find Harry," Hermione admitted.

A number of people in the room shared concerned looks while the witch in grey named Martha never wavered in her mistrustful stare of Hermione.

"But he's dead, Hermione," croaked out Hagrid. Hermione could tell by the half-giant's pain filled voice that he was still mourning Harry's alleged death.

"If Voldemort had killed Harry, he would've displayed his body," explained Hermione. Everyone, save for Remus, flinched at the mention of the evil wizard's name. "Harry has been a beacon of hope for the light since he was a baby, whether he liked it or not. Voldemort would've showed us Harry's mutilated body just to scare us and lower our morale. He wouldn't have just tossed some bloodied clothes on the street. It's far more likely that he would have tossed Harry's dead body in the middle of Diagon Alley to send a message that none could stand against him."

"Hermione, I know it hurts to admit it," Remus said sincerely, "but Harry's gone."

"No, I believe her," sounded Ginny. "Harry's alive."

"Wait, I told you that last night and you told me I was barmy," Ron said to his sister with annoyance.

"Yeah, but that was when you said it," countered Ginny as she took her place next to her brother and the brunette witch. "This is Hermione; she's smarter than you. And I trust her. If she says Harry's alive, then he's alive. There's no question about it. And I plan on helping her look for him."

"No, you are not, young lady," lectured Molly. "You're still fifteen, if only for a few more days, and I still say what you can and cannot do. You're going back to Hogwarts, even if I have to place a Full Body Bind on you and toss you on the Hogwarts Express!"

"Do it," dared Ginny bravely. "I'll just run away the moment I get there."

Molly was so angry at her children for defying her – she looked as if she could chew nails. Her face was a fiery red and her eyes were bulging in rage.

"I really don't think we should be having a family squabble during our meeting," complained Martha. "That's why I didn't want to have it here; too many damn kids running about. The Order of the Phoenix is not a bloody nanny service."

"You want to have it at Grimmauld Place then?" Tonks asked snidely. "Now that the Fidelius Charm has fallen because of Dumbledore's death; I'm sure it's very safe. I'm sure there's only a slim chance a dozen Death Eaters would be crawling all over the place by now ready and waiting to kill anybody who shows up."

"No, I'm not a fool," Martha shot back. "But why not have it at Moody's?"

"She's got a point," Mad-Eye grumbled, "course if we go there I don't want anyone mucking about."

"All if favor for changing venue?" Martha asked the room and a number of hands raised into the air, including a very angry Molly's.

"What about me joining the Order?" asked Ron.

"I'd like to join as well," Hermione put in. She figured that if she joined the group she would be able to make them see the light concerning Harry and would therefore help her search for him.

"Go ahead and try," Molly challenged them.

"Me too?" asked Ginny hopefully.

"Fine, but let me warn you," Molly lectured, "you'll have to pass a vote to join, and just one veto vote will prevent you from joining. It's tradition."

It was clear from her tone that Molly was planning on vetoing both of her children on principal alone. Whether or not she was going to vote against Hermione became a moot point when Martha spoke up.

"And I promise to vote _'no'_ on the whole lot of you," she said harshly. Seeing how the grey robed witch had basically blocked the three teens from joining the Order, it was pointless to take an official vote.

"Wow, Martha, for a new member to the Order, you're a real bitch," Tonks said to the other witch. The look that Martha gave Tonks was full of hate.

"Now that's out of the way," Moody said with a groan as he stood, ignoring the angry interchange between Tonks and Martha, "let's head over to my place and continue this meeting without interruption. But don't touch anything while you're there. There's a bunch of traps around the place for protection."

Each Order member walked out of the Burrow and disappeared with a crack. Before Remus and Tonks left, they gave Ron, Ginny, and Hermione a sad and apologetic look.

The three teens stood in the kitchen in silence for some time before Ron asked, "Well, what the hell are we gonna do now?"

"We start looking for Harry," offered Hermione.

"Have you figured out where we should start looking for him?" Ron asked uneasily.

"No, not yet," Hermione admitted. It was a question that had been plaguing her for days. She had no idea where to even begin looking for Harry.

"I have an idea," Ginny offered. "Why don't we get jobs with the Ministry?"

"How would that help?" Ron asked.

"Well, if we work there, we might have access to information that isn't public knowledge," explained Ginny.

"You mean like Death Eater activity," speculated Hermione. "We can keep track of their movements and actions and hopefully find their base of operations."

"Or even capture one and get the information out of him," added Ron.

"Exactly," Ginny said. "I've heard that the M. L. E. is lowering their requirements to increase their ranks, so hopefully Ron and I can join."

"Why not me?" asked Hermione, a little taken back at Ginny's plan to leave her out.

"You're the brains Hermione; me and Ron, we're kind of like foot soldiers," Ginny justified. "I figured you'd get a desk job where you can look over a bunch of information and collect it while Ron and I would tell you what we find in the field."

"Yeah, that way you can put it all together and hopefully find where Harry's at," concluded Ron.

Hermione mulled over the notion and it started to make sense. Ron and Ginny could pound the streets in a fashion while she stayed in an office and researched everything she could in hopes of finding Harry. Research was what she was good at after all.

"When should we go?" asked Hermione.

"Why not now?" suggested Ginny.

With no reason to argue, the three friends used the Burrow's fireplace to Floo travel to the Ministry.

**x**

**x**

Harry groaned through gritted teeth in anguish as he lay on his stomach and Bellatrix carved into his back. She had etched some form of intricate designs into his shoulder blades and was now slicing shapes down the length of his spine to his buttocks.

As the evil witch carved away at his flesh, Harry felt hatred well up inside him. It was far greater than anything he had felt before. The anger he felt wasn't like the time he had tried to curse Bellatrix with the Cruciatus after she killed Sirius. He was blinded by rage at the time and didn't truly comprehend the consequences of his actions. But now, he longed to cause the bitch pain in return for what she was doing to him. He wanted his wand back so that he could show her that he could properly perform the Cruciatus now. No longer was he filled with righteous anger. He longed to hear her screams.

Harry had never wanted to hurt someone so badly before, not intentionally. The times he had used the Unforgivable Curses before was out of blind rage. He had reacted on pure instinct alone. But what he was feeling now was not instinct, nor did he want to do it for revenge. He wanted to see Bellatrix in pain; not just to end his own suffering or for vengeance, but because, deep down inside, he lusted after it. That thought terrified Harry.

**x**

**x**

Hermione, Ron, and Ginny stepped out of the Floo in the Ministry lobby and approached a nearby help desk to inquire about applying for jobs. The wizard behind the desk was not been very helpful; he simply pointed vaguely in the direction of a hall and said bluntly, "Go there."

Luckily, after stopping a much more helpful person, Hermione was able to find the office where she and her friends could sign up for jobs.

The little old witch in the hiring office smiled at them and asked about what careers interested them. Ron and Ginny proudly announced that they wanted to become Magical Law Enforcement Officers. The little witch beamed and made an off handed comment about how they needed fine young people for such jobs as she searched through a pile of parchment. She pulled two purple papers out of the pile and handed the siblings each a form to fill out. Then the little witch asked what career Hermione wanted. The brunette witch didn't care what job she got as long as she was able to get her hands on anything that might give her clues about Harry's location. She asked for any desk position and the little witch gave Hermione a green form to fill out with a bright smile.

"There you go dearie," the little witch said happily.

Hermione filled out her generic form in fifteen minutes whereas it took Ginny thirty minutes and Ron almost an hour. It wasn't that the forms for M. L. E. jobs were more complicated, it was just that Hermione tended to work faster than either of the two Weasleys.

After handing in their forms, the witch informed the three friends that they should hear a response in a week or two. Ginny said that she was going to head back to the Burrow to see if their mother had gotten back yet and made lunch.

"You want to do anything?" Ron asked Hermione, hoping that he'd get a chance to spend some time alone with his girlfriend. Perhaps, if he was lucky, Hermione wouldn't be so worried about Harry and could relax a bit.

"We can do some research," offered Hermione. "See if there are any public records we can read about Death Eaters."

"No," a crestfallen Ron muttered, "You know I'm rubbish at that stuff." He was hoping that he would a least get to spend time with Hermione as boyfriend and girlfriend in order to develop the physical side of their relationship. But she dismissed any notion of touching, much less anything else, and instead brought up Harry once more. "I guess I'll go back and see if mum made lunch for us."

And he shuffled over to the community floo and quickly vanished. Leaving Hermione alone in the Ministry wondering why her boyfriend was in a foul mood.

**x**

**x**

It was after he had finished his humble supper in his lab that Severus had decided he should venture out into the halls for his nightly walk. Usually, he would walk back and forth in the hall in front of his lab because he had to keep his lab within sight. Some of the potions he brewed needed constant observation and he dared not go too far away from them. But tonight, since the potions he was working on were simple, Snape decided to travel past his normal route.

As he walked down a corridor, Snape began to hope that he'd run into Draco. The fact that he and Draco had been separated directly after their arrival at this castle and that he had not seen hide or hair of his charge bothered Severus. He hoped that his favorite student hadn't done anything foolish or was in trouble. The potion master had risked too much for Draco's sake already, and he wanted to check on his former student.

Snape rounded another corner and entered a portion of the castle that he had not seen yet. It looked very similar to the wing that his potion lab was located, but the pleasing smells of potions were not present here. Instead, Snape could smell a strong fire burning and the stench of metals being melted down into their liquid form.

He had no idea that another person was working in the dungeon of the castle, so he went to investigate. He slowly approached the door where the stench was coming from. As he drew closer, he heard an argument coming from the lab.

"… very dissatisfied with your progress," one voice said.

"You silly bootlicker," another voice shot back. "Bonding one item to another and keeping the magical essence intact is not an exact science, it's an art. The Dark Lord knows this. The sheer quantity of amulets he requires will take time."

"Well hurry up," the first voice demanded and Snape heard the door begin to creak open.

Snape shot back and hid in a niche in the wall opposite the door. The door flung open and a Death Eater he didn't recognize stormed out.

"We will need those amulets in a few weeks' time," the Death Eater pressed.

"I know of the time limit," the man in the room hissed. "The medallions will be prepared in time."

Snape was stunned to see that the man in the room was none other than Ollivander, the famous wand maker that had disappeared months before. The ancient man glared at the retreating Death Eater with his moon-like eyes as he reached into a satchel and began to pull something out of it. But before Snape could see what the item or items were in the satchel, the Death Eater closed the door and stormed off.

Snape was left in the deserted hall way wondering what Ollivander was doing. He was obviously making some sort of amulet and bonding some magical item to it. But what that item was or what magical properties it had was a mystery to Snape.

**x**

**x**

It was early morning; how Harry knew this was unknown to him. There were no windows in his cell that could tell him the position of the sun, but it felt like early morning to him.

In a matter of moments, Bellatrix would saunter through the door and begin cutting him up, much like she had been doing for what felt like weeks. Day after day, Harry tried desperately not to cry out in pain as Bellatrix cut into his skin; he knew the sadistic bitch enjoyed his suffering too much and he did not want to give her the pleasure. And day after day, his resolve failed and he would scream.

When the door swung open Harry was ecstatic to see Remus standing next to Moody. The two grizzly looking wizards walked in and one of them cast the Finite Charm on Harry, canceling out the Full Body Bind he was under.

"Don't worry boy," Remus said. An odd thing happened; even though it was Remus speaking, it was Moody's gruff voice that said the words.

"We're getting you out of here," Moody added. But much like the other wizard, he wasn't using his own voice, but Remus' voice came from his scarred lips. Harry was a little confused but he really didn't care why their voices didn't match up as long as they got him out of this dungeon.

The two wizards were busy helping Harry to his feet when the bitch, Bellatrix, walked into the cell. Remus and Moody both had their backs turned to the door and hadn't seen or heard her. She silently pulled out her wand and leveled it at Harry's rescuers.

There was no time to warn Remus and Moody, but Harry saw that Remus had a spare wand sticking out of one of his pockets. Miraculously, Harry was able to move like lightning. Even though he had been under the effects of the Body Bind for days, or even weeks, Harry was able to pull the wand out of Remus' pocket and hit Bellatrix with a stunner before she could fire off a single hex. Something inside of Harry was disappointed that he had used a less than lethal spell. That dark part of Harry desired to see Bellatrix suffer like he had.

The moment the unconscious Bellatrix hit the floor; Remus stated in Moody's voice "We need to get out of here, now!"

Moody tapped his wand to the table that Harry had been on and incanted "_Portus!_"

Suddenly, Harry was in the kitchen of number twelve Grimmauld Place. He hadn't felt the familiar tug of Portkey travel. Perhaps he had blacked out when the three had traveled from the cell.

The instant they arrived in the kitchen, two sets of arms flung themselves around Harry's neck. Both Ginny and Hermione were pressing Harry's still naked body between theirs as they hugged him and lightly kissed his cheeks. The same part of Harry that wanted to hurt Bellatrix demanded more then just hugs and friendly kisses from the two witches. But Harry ignored the odd desire.

For the next few days, Ginny and Hermione nursed Harry back to strength. The girls would take turns feeding Harry as he lay naked on the same slab that Moody had turned into a Portkey. A touch embarrassed by his state of undress, Harry asked for a sheet to cover himself.

"Why?" Hermione asked. "We're all friends here," she finished by casually laying her hand on his bare thigh. "There's nothing to be ashamed about."

"These are beautiful," Ginny said while she traced some of the scars on his neck. "Bella really did a wonderful job with these. She's an artist."

That thing inside Harry surged up; it made Harry want Ginny and Hermione. It wanted to hear their moans. But Harry ignored that part of him, it was inappropriate to think such things about his best friend and his ex-girlfriend.

"Wanna play a game of chess?" Ron asked after inexplicably appearing next to Harry's bed. It was obvious by the eager expression on his face that Ron wasn't bothered by Harry's nakedness much like the two witches.

"Sure," Harry said. The two friends played a brutal game of Chess where Ron was easily trumping Harry. At one point, the red haired wizard was asking aloud as to what he should do with his castle. During the game, Ginny continued to closely examine Harry's scars and Hermione was completely content to have her hand rest on Harry's leg.

Suddenly, Harry's friends disappeared and were replaced by members of the Order of the Phoenix. The witches and wizards were all sitting around Harry's table and he lay in the middle like some sort of centerpiece.

"I need your help," Harry stated.

"Help with what?" a voice that sounded like it belonged to McGonagall asked. Harry had some difficultly making out the faces of the people around him.

"I need to look for Voldemort's Horcruxes," Harry replied.

"All in favor of helping Harry say 'aye'!" one voice called out and everyone stood and shouted "aye!"

It was very odd. The moment everyone voted in favor of helping Harry, strange and bizarre objects began to pile up next to Harry's slab. Bits of strings appeared next to Harry along with fragments of bricks, broken toys, a sickly pony, and a flower. Something inside of him told him that these were Voldemort's Horcruxes.

For some peculiar reason, Harry felt a pricking on the back of his hand. The pricking grew to a burning. He tried to move his hand, but found that he couldn't. It was paralyzed.

With the intense pain in his hand, Harry's eyes shot open. He was still in the cell and Bellatrix was carving something into the back of his hand.

He remembered now; he had blacked out from a combination of blood loss and pain. It was just a dream; a cruel joke his mind played on him. No one had come and saved him from his unending torture.

**x**

**x**

Draco had returned to his Master's castle with Wormtail a few nights previously. A fellow Death Eater greeted Draco when he came back by harshly snatching the bag of reptilian-like scales from his hand and grumbling an insult at the blond boy.

That night, Draco entered his tiny room and with a simple Detection Charm found out that every single one of his possessions had been hexed; all his clothes, books, photos, and furniture. Draco dared not touch any of these items; he could do nothing besides Banish the cursed items away.

For the next few days, Draco slept in a conjured cot. He left the safety of his room only when there was a meeting, because he was afraid that some of the other Death Eaters would harm him if he ventured out of his quarters. No one had yet bothered him in his room, but then one night, he heard a soft knocking on his door. He hesitated; was this it? Had the Dark Lord finally decreed that Draco should die? A chill ran through Draco's body while he sat on the bed and wondered if the person on the other side of the door would kill him. A part of Draco almost wished for it; he had grown tired of being afraid all the time and death would be a release from that fear. Had he grown so pathetic that he welcomed death? Draco was drawn out of these dreadful thoughts when another knock sounded and a voice spoke up from the other side of the door.

"Draco, let me in. It's me; Pansy."

Knowing that the Dark Lord would not send a mere initiate like Pansy to kill him, Draco opened the door and let her into the room. The black haired witch closed the door behind her and cast a Silencing Charm on the doorway. She then threw her arms around Draco and kissed him on the lips.

"How are you holding up?" she asked as she looked deeply into his eyes.

"I'm fine," he lied poorly.

It hurt her to see the pain and doubt in his eyes. But that was the reason that she was here, to help him overcome his insecurities.

"Draco, I've talked to the Dark Lord," Pansy stated.

"Directly?" asked Draco with amazement.

"I've asked him to give you another chance."

Pansy's announcement caused Draco's face to become even paler than before.

"I'm to help you become a better Death Eater," Pansy continued.

"No," Draco blurted out, terror marring his aristocratic features. "No, I don't think I can do it! And if I fail, not only will I be killed, but you'll die, too!"

Pansy's hand flew and slapped Draco across his face.

"This is not the Draco I fell in love with," she hissed. "The wizard I fell in love with would have overcome his fear and would've done what was right!"

With a trembling hand, Draco touched the welt forming on his cheek.

"I know the Dark Lord gave you an impossible assignment when he ordered you to kill Dumbledore," Pansy spoke. "Everyone knows that task was a punishment for your father's failure. But now he's giving you another chance!

"I spoke with Macnair. We're going on a Muggle Hunting expedition," continued Pansy. "You, me, Millicent, Crabbe, Goyle, and Theodore are going to kill a family of Muggles in two days. This is good; we can basically start out small by killing those filthy creatures. Then we can progress onto more worthy tasks and you can prove yourself to the Dark Lord."

Draco gulped as he felt the bile creeping up his throat. "I don't know if I have it in me. I don't know if I can hurt another person, even if they are a Muggle," Draco admitted. When he had the chance to kill Dumbledore, he had completely frozen up, even though the old wizard was defenseless.

"Muggles aren't people, not like us," Pansy stated in a matter of fact tone. "They can't perform magic. They're _deformed,_ like Squibs. A race made up entirely of Squibs. But they're worse than that. Unlike Squibs who know their place, Muggles have the gall to think they're equal to us or even superior. Those filthy Muggles think they're better than us, when they can't even perform one simple spell. They are vermin. They mean nothing and they deserve to be punished for such failings."

Pansy's words rang true in Draco's head; he had been taught the truth about Muggles since he was a boy. Killing a Muggle wasn't like killing a witch or a wizard; it was more like killing a rabid, diseased animal. He was still worried that he would not be able to do it, but with help from Pansy, Draco believed that he could.

Pansy tenderly stroked his face and whispered, "If we are successful in dealing with the Muggles, I'll give myself to you."

Draco's heart leapt. They had only broached the subject of sex lightly. Pansy had always wanted to follow the more traditional route and wait until she was married. This promise of giving her innocence to him showed Draco just how much Pansy was willing to do to help him in becoming a true Death Eater.

The two spent the rest of the night talking; sometimes they'd talked about each other and their relationship. They had been dating unofficially for over two years now, but were taking it slow; nothing more than passionate kisses and a few gropes here and there. But a majority of the night was spent on topics concerning the upcoming attack on the Muggle house. The two discussed possible tactics and ways Draco could overcome his trepidation.

**x**

**x**

That night, well after Bellatrix had finished her session and the guards had force fed Harry, the tortured wizard lay frozen on his slab. He was in absolute agony. His skin and muscles, where Bellatrix had cut, felt as if they were on fire.

Tomorrow would bring even more torture. Harry found himself wondering if Bellatrix was going to carve up his legs, arms, or chest the next day. And how many times would he scream?

A tear rolled down his face as he prayed for death.

**x**

**x**

Hermione had gotten a generic desk job at the Ministry: some menial job that dealt with filing paperwork in the morning and polishing a stone walkway in the afternoon. But something wonderful happened, the first report that passed in front of her amazingly unlocked the mystery of Harry's location. It was so simple; she couldn't understand why no one had noticed it before.

She quickly got Ron and Ginny and the three friends stormed the dark and dank prison where Harry was being held. Ron and Ginny fought off the scores of Death Eaters with ease while Hermione ran to where Harry's prison cell was located. Hermione helped Harry stand and the four friends ran off into the distance. As they led Harry, the raven haired wizard turned to Hermione and said: "Thank you for saving me, Hermione."

Harry then reached out and hugged her. Something odd caught Hermione's eye; for some odd reason, Harry's appearance would alternate between healthy and clean and dirty and beaten. Ignoring these strange changes in appearance, Hermione leaned forward, intending to kiss him, when she woke up.

To Hermione, it was a cruel dream. She doubted that it would be so easy to either find Harry or rescue him. It was as if her own subconscious had mocked her desires with this dream. Hermione sat up in her bed and cried.

**x**

**x**

Draco, Pansy, Millicent, Theodore, Crabbe and Goyle stood in front of Macnair as the senior Death Eater gave them their instructions.

"It's very simple: be as brutal as possible," Macnair said bluntly. "Kill every Muggle in the house in savage and vicious ways."

He then pulled a hunk of rope out of his robes and set it on the ground in front of the six new recruits. The senior Death Eater touched his wand to the rope and incanted "_Portus_."

While the rope glowed and shook as it was magically transformed into a Portkey, Macnair continued to brief them. "It's a small farm east of Cardiff. There is a man and woman, as well as their three children. Remember, just because they can talk like us doesn't make them like us. We're superior to them in every way."

Draco and his team nodded their heads in agreement.

"Once everyone is destroyed, cast the Dark Mark by incanting _'Morsmordre'_ and return here for a debriefing," Macnair finished and the rope stopped shaking.

As one, Draco and his five teammates touched the Portkey and with a tug, were magically transported next to a small house in the middle of a large field. It was a moonless night and the only light was coming from inside the house. A quick glance at his surroundings told Draco that there wasn't another house for miles.

His palms were coated with sweat as he approached the house. He waved his wand at the door and muttered "_Alohomora_." The door's locks clicked open. Draco smiled as this action reaffirmed that Pansy and Macnair were correct: Muggles were lesser beings. A simple Unlocking Spell that a first year could perform would render the most complex lock that Muggles made worthless.

Draco led the way into the house with his teammates close behind him. They turned the corner and entered what was obviously the dining room. At the table, a family of five sat and ate their supper. The father and mother were around forty years old. The oldest of their children was a boy of about sixteen, followed by a girl who was around fourteen, and the youngest, a boy who looked like he was no older than ten.

"What the hell is going on?" the father demanded after he finally noticed the group of strangers in black robes and white masks in his kitchen. He shot up and began to lumber toward Draco menacingly. Draco leveled his wand at the Muggle's throat.

"I'm gunna shove that stick up your arse, fella," the Muggle threatened with his boorish accent and continued to stalk over to Draco.

Draco and Pansy had discussed tactics when she had visited him in his chamber and had decided that to cause the most terror, they should do something "_flashy_". With a grin that was hidden behind his white mask, Draco turned to Theodore and ordered: "Cut him up."

Theodore Nott's specialty was Slicing and Cutting Hexes and he didn't disappoint. With a flick of his wand, Nott sent a hex that tore up the left side of the Muggle's face. The father screamed and clutched at his ruined eye-socket. The eldest son jumped up; it was obvious that he was going to try and finish what his father had started.

"Him, Draco; the older boy," Pansy pointed at the boy who was rapidly making his way to the pack of Death Eaters. When Draco and Pansy had talked about tactics, she had suggested that Draco start out with the Imperius Curse. He had become rather skilled in using that Unforgivable over the past year when he had kept Madame Rosmerta under its effects. And seeing that Muggles had a naturally lower resistance to magic, particularly the Imperius, Draco could easily force one of these lower beings into doing his bidding.

Before the oldest son could even reach his father's side, Draco pointed his wand at him and shouted "_Imperio!_"

The boy froze in his tracks.

"You two take the mother," Pansy ordered Nott and Millicent. "You two finish the father," she commanded of Crabbe and Goyle. "I'll get the girl."

The mother screamed in agony while both Millicent and Nott cast the Cruciatus torture curse on her. The daughter went to grab her younger brother, more likely than not to run away and save herself and little brother from the danger, but stopped when Pansy cast the Imperius on her as well. Crabbe and Goyle busied themselves by physically kicking and casting weak cutting hexes on the father as he lay on the floor. While the Muggle girl and the older boy were frozen, awaiting orders from Pansy and Draco, the youngest boy shivered in fear in the corner of the dinning room.

Pansy walked up to Draco and whispered words of encouragement in his ear: "Remember what we talked about Draco; use their fear."

One of the things that Pansy had discussed with Draco that night was that his fear fed the other Death Eaters. They relished the dread they caused in Draco with their torment as it gave them power over him. It was a vicious cycle; the other Death Eaters were encouraged to cause him more fear which caused them to inspire more dread in Draco. This conversation led Pansy to push Draco to do the exact same thing when they attacked the Muggles; Draco needed to bask in their fear much like the other Death Eaters enjoyed his. Pansy reasoned that he should use the Muggles' fear and pain as a point of encouragement, that it would bolster him and help him on his path to become a better Death Eater.

So Draco did just that. He took in the tortured screams of the mother as she was hit with two Cruciatus Curses and the pitiful groans of the father while Crabbe and Goyle cut and beat him to a bloodied pulp. He let the sounds of the two Muggles' torment wash over him. Something inside Draco stirred. It was a sensation similar to a sleeping limb that was slowly starting to wake up and regain feeling. This feeling intrigued Draco. He opened his eyes and looked at the mother and father. Their expressions of pain were like works of art to Draco. His eyes traveled and he looked at the boy who was huddled in the corner; softly whimpering in fear. This image brought up a humiliating memory in Draco. He had done something very similar in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom the previous school term when the pressure to kill Dumbledore had proved too much for him and he had broken down. He had hated himself for being so weak; he wished that someone would have come around and beat some sense into him. But as Draco looked at the cowering boy, a thought came to him; he could do that now. He could beat the boy for being fearful and in the process; Draco could cleanse his soul vicariously.

With a silent command, Draco sent the older Muggle boy, to stand over the younger one. With tears glistening in his eyes, the boy looked up to his brother and pleaded with him; "Please Frankie, let's get out of here. I wanna get out of here."

Frankie, the older boy, swung his arm at the boy and slapped him hard across the face. The boy sobbed and fell to the floor. He instinctively curled up into a little ball. With a smile on his face, Draco commanded the older boy to punch the younger one. It was cathartic for Draco. When he made the older Muggle pummel his brother, it was as if he were beating that frighten child that he himself had become.

Pansy marveled at the look of pleasure in her boyfriend's eyes. Draco was doing just fine, he had not hesitated nor was he fearful of causing these lower beings pain.

The Muggle girl joined her brother in the beating of the youngest. The two bewitched siblings punched and kicked the ten year old mercilessly.

Even in his distracted state, Draco could easily control the Muggle boy. He sent a command to the boy and he followed easily. The elder boy gripped his brother's head and slammed it against the wall. An unforeseen sensation overcame Draco when he heard the boy's scream: his testicles swelled up as if he was about to ejaculate. Curious to see if the boy's pain was what turned Draco on, he commanded the older boy to twist his brother's ear until it ripped off. The boy screamed. The pressure in Draco's loins increased. For some reason, Draco was taking physical pleasure in the boy's pain. And Draco liked it.

Responding to Pansy's silent order, the Muggle girl grabbed a steak knife off the nearby table and drove the blade into her younger brother's thigh. Blood sprayed from the wound and splashed the girl's face. A hellish scream emanated from the boy when his sister twisted the blade in his leg. A sickening thudding sound filled Draco's ears when he commanded the older boy to beat the younger one's chest repeatedly The boy's screams made Draco's head spin and excited him in ways he had not dreamt of. Draco was hard as steel. He was glad that he was wearing his trousers and robes which effectively hid his aroused state. When the girl ripped the knife out of the boy's leg and plunged it into the other one, a bit of pre-cum seeped out of Draco's member. Draco's body heated up when the sounds of tearing flesh reached his ears. Snapping sounds accompanied the older boy's strikes, indicating he was breaking his brother's ribs. The ten year old boy's screams sounded like his throat was being torn apart.

Draco's loins ached for release. He desperately wanted to wank himself off, but realized that it would be inappropriate and embarrassing with his peers around. That act demanded privacy. To distract himself from his own arousal, Draco turned to check on the progress of the mother and father. Crabbe and Goyle had not noticed that the father was already dead and were continuing to kick his corpse. The mother was still alive, if one could call her state living. Her hair had already turned white from the shock of being under the effects of two Cruciatus Curses and was foaming at the mouth. One look told Draco that the Muggle woman would never recover. That knowledge gave him a wicked idea: leave the mother _"alive"_ as a message, so to speak.

The Muggle girl continued to stab her brother's legs. She swung her arms up and down frantically. The blade was moving so fast that it was sending blood all over her chest, arms and face. The elder boy continued to savagely beat the youngest Muggle's chest. But the boy's screams had died away. It was clear that he had finally gone into shock. Dissatisfied that the boy was no longer entertaining him with his screams, Draco decided to end the Muggle's life. The eldest boy wrapped his hands around the ten-year old boy's throat and squeezed, crushing his windpipe. The blond Death Eater had the older boy keep the pressure on the younger one even after it had become apparent that he was dead.

Now that all the family save the two under the Imperius had been dealt with, a wicked idea occurred to Draco. But it was an idea that he was hesitant to act upon.

"What is it Draco?" Pansy asked, noticing his apprehension.

"I… I have and idea," he began. "But I'm afraid you won't like it."

"Will it cause these two pain?" Pansy asked.

"Yes," he replied. It would cause them pain, in fact. However the real reason he wanted to do it was so that he would experience this new level of pleasure caused by their pain.

"Then do it," Pansy agreed.

"Okay, have her lay on the table," Draco requested.

Pansy silently commanded the Muggle girl lay on the table. Draco forced his excitement not to show as he cast a Sticking Charm on the girl's hands so that she was effectively glued to the table.

"Are you planning on having her brother violate her?" Pansy asked with unmasked delight. In response, Draco nodded his head. "And I take it you placed the Sticking Charm on her because you want me to lift the Imperius so we can hear her scream?"

Again, Draco nodded his head. He feared that if he spoke he would let slip the real reason he had for wanting to do this.

Pansy pointed her wand at the girl and incanted, "_Finite_."

The moment the Imperius Curse was lifted, it was obvious that the Muggle girl had no idea what was going on, as if the actions she had been forced to commit had not registered in her mind yet. Then, slowly, the horror of it all appeared in her expression. Tears streamed down her face and mingled with her younger brother's blood that covered her face. She tried to get up and run away, but she was magically bound to the table.

Draco watched her struggle while she wept pathetically. Her tears just heightened his arousal before he sent a mental command to the older brother. The boy ripped open the girl's blouse and tore off her bra, exposing her underdeveloped, pale breasts. Draco fought the urge to walk up and squeeze one of the Muggle girl's tits; he wanted to feel it mash in his hands and between his fingers. But even in his excitement, he knew it would be wrong to do such a thing in front of Pansy. So Draco satisfied his desire vicariously by making the boy crush the girl's breast.

"Please Frankie, don't," the girl pleaded pitifully with her brother as he roughly kneaded her flesh. "Please no!"

Draco had enough of mashing her tit; he commanded his puppet to tear off the girl's knickers. The boy went to reach for her cotton panties when she started to kick at him. Pansy ended her kicking by placing the same Sticking Charm on the back of the girl's thighs that Draco had used on her hands, gluing them to the table. The boy was able to finally complete Draco's order and with a ripping sound, the girl was exposed for all to see.

Draco didn't waste any time, he needed to hear her scream. He commanded the boy to open his trousers and pull out his manhood. The boy quickly complied and removed his flaccid organ from his pants. To make his Muggle toy ready for what he was about to do, Draco focused on the sensation of his own erection and forced that feeling into the boy. In a matter of seconds, the Muggle boy's penis sprang to life. Draco hastily commanded the boy to begin.

Sweat poured off of Draco's face behind his mask as he watched the boy violate the girl. Her screams made Draco want to push the boy out of the way and take her himself. He wanted to feel her wrapped around his member, to feel her blood coat it, to be the one making her scream. He told himself that such thoughts were dirty and impure; the idea of sullying his organ with the filthy Muggle made him nauseous. Draco forced that desire down.

In a matter of moments, the boy grunted. And something strange had happened; even though he had not touched himself, Draco came at the exact same moment that the bewitched Muggle did. He didn't know if it was just that his body couldn't handle the arousal anymore and had climaxed for release or if it was a side effect of the Imperius. But Draco had never heard of such a thing happening with the Imperius.

While the boy was still in his sister, Draco ended his control of the boy. He wanted to see the Muggle's reaction.

"_Finite,_" Draco incanted and the boy slumped, like a marionette whose strings were cut. Draco could not see the expression on the boy's face, but the Muggle shot up and jumped away from his sister as if she was on fire. It must have been a frightening thing for the boy; to be spent and inside his sister.

Draco's eyes locked on the girl violated genitals. The sight of the muck and gore thrilled him and he started to get hard again.

"YOU FUCKERS!" the boy screamed and dived for Draco.

He almost reached him, but a second before his hands wrapped around Draco's throat, Pansy screamed "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A bolt of green light erupted from Pansy's wand and struck the boy in the chest. The dead Muggle crumpled to the ground at Draco's feet.

"The girl is yours," Pansy stated and pointed at the sobbing wreck attached to the table.

For a split second, the blond Death Eater thought that Pansy was giving Draco her permission to have his way with the girl. But then, he realized that she was telling him that he could kill the girl. It was silly of him to think that Pansy would allow such a thing. Besides, he wouldn't want the lowly Muggle quim to touch him, much less let the Muggle boy's discharge that was in and on the girl to touch his penis. That wouldn't be right, he told himself.

Not letting himself cave in to his carnal desires Draco stepped over the boy's body and stood next to the girl. He looked in her eyes and saw that she knew that pleading for her life was pointless. So Draco pointed his wand at the girl's neck and used the same spell that Potter had used on him in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Draco shouted, "_SECTUMSEMPRA!_"

The girl's throat erupted in a fountain of blood and sprayed Draco's face. The warm blood poured into his mask through the slit for his mouth and the opening for his eyes, coating both his mask and his face.

Draco's erection grew painfully hard once again, as he watched the fourteen year old girl die.

**To be continued…**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Three

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

**x**

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**x**

It was a wonderful morning. The sun was bright, with a few fluffy, pure white clouds in the crystal blue sky, and birds were singing gaily. One couldn't help but to have their spirits lifted the moment they caught a glimpse of the beautiful sky. But Percy Weasley wasn't the type of person to dawdle around looking at the sky like some kind of lazy buffoon; there was important work to be done.

The moment he woke up, Percy began dashing about. He took an efficient and time saving shower. He then slapped together some toast and placed it in a paper bag to eat later, instead of wasting time having a proper breakfast. He Apparated just outside the Ministry, briskly walked through the employee entrance, and said his hello's to the proper, high ranking people. Many times, some of his fellow Ministry employees would often try to make idle chat with him as he made his way to his office. They would bring up trivial matters like the weather or latest Quidditch match. Percy had no time for such pointless conversations and tended to look down his nose at the witch or wizard who tried to waste his time. Mind you, if it was one of his superiors who talked about the weather or some Quidditch match, Percy was able to talk to them ad nauseam about whatever subject they wanted to bring up.

So when the little witch from job placement hopped toward Percy, he was positive that he was in for a silly little conversation about how the flowers in the lobby were particularly fragrant today or who was dating whom from the Department of Games and Sports. The little witch, Mrs. Booth, was notorious in Percy's mind for being a gabber and gossip-monger. He mashed the call button for the lift and hoped that he wouldn't have to spend too much time listening to the little witch jabbering on as he waited for the lift to arrive.

"Good morning Percy," Mrs. Booth happily heralded. Percy rolled his eyes at her greeting; he never understood how people of a lower status than he would always treat him so informally. At the very least, she should have referred to him as "_Mr. Weasley_". But truly she should use his proper title of"_Under-Secretary Weasley_" out of respect for the valued position he held.

"Morning, Mrs. Booth," he returned the greeting rapidly.

"Lovely day, isn't it?" asked Mrs. Booth with a glow in her round cheeks.

"Yes," replied Percy curtly as he kept his attention away from the annoying witch by checking on the progress of the lift.

"Something very interesting happened yesterday," Mrs. Booth continued, either ignoring Percy's rude tone or simply oblivious to it. Percy rationalized that she was more than likely unaware of the meaning of his annoyed manner, seeing how slow and dim she appeared. "Three young people filled out job applications."

"How unusual," Percy said with thinly veiled sarcasm.

"The unusual thing was that two of them were your siblings!" Mrs. Booth announced. That caught Percy's attention.

"What?" the bell chimed indicating the arrival of the lift and Percy ignored it. "Which ones?"

"Ronald and Ginevra," she replied. "I was going to ask your father about them; to see if they would be good workers. But you know how parents tend to embellish. So I figured you'd be the better person to ask about their work habits."

"Can I see their applications?" Percy asked. Mrs. Booth merrily led him to her office.

Percy was pleased that two of his siblings had decided to do something positive with their lives by working for the government and was curious to see what positions they were seeking. After looking over both of their applications, Percy was surprised to see that they wanted to join the M. L. E. In all honesty, he had heard that Ron may have been fairly good at some basic Defensive spells, but Percy knew his brother was more than a bit lazy. Perhaps the twelve week intensive training program for the M. L. E. would break him of his irresponsible indolence. Ginny, on the other hand, was too young to join the M. L. E. Even though some people thought her silly Bat Boogie Hex was impressive, it was nothing but a childish prank that would be ineffectual in a real fight. But that didn't mean she wasn't needed by the Ministry.

"Ron would do well with the M. L. E. program," Percy told Mrs. Booth. "But it isn't for Ginny, even if she were old enough. Perhaps there's another opportunity for her?"

"Oh yes; she was so bright and chipper yesterday," Mrs. Booth answered. "I know the perfect position for her."

"You said that three people came in," Percy began as he handed his siblings applications back to the little witch, "who was the third?"

"Um… Hermione Granger," she handed Percy Granger's form. "It's a general application requesting any job within the Ministry," explained Mrs. Booth. "Do you know of a job where she would do well?"

He remembered the Granger girl was very bright and clever. Percy realized that with those skills she could be a good asset for the Ministry. But he also remembered that she tended to be bossy, idealistic, and a bit of a nonconformist — he had heard tales of her ludicrous house-elf support group. That could be a problem in the long run. Percy's conclusion was that Granger be placed in a position that kept her out of the way, and just as importantly in a section that rarely let it workers advance. That way, she couldn't cause too much trouble with her odd views and unneeded agendas.

"Muggle-Relations," he finally answered. "Being a Muggle-born, she has unique insight that will be beneficial to the department."

Mrs. Booth seemed satisfied with his decision. '_That department would keep Granger out of trouble_,' Percy thought to himself.

**x**

**x**

Lord Voldemort folded the post he had just received, placing it on the table next to his throne. The note contained a warning from one of his spies regarding Potter's Mudblood friend. Granger was going around telling people that Potter was alive and was trying to convince the Order of the Phoenix to help search for him. Thankfully, according to his spy, most people assumed that Granger was being hopelessly optimistic and had quickly dismissed the Mudblood's theory. But it wouldn't do to have her sway people. Even with all the anti-detection wards and charms that Voldemort had around the castle and Potter himself, Voldemort didn't need people looking for his prisoner.

Granger was a problem that would have to be dealt with. Voldemort had two options. The first was to simply kill her; the fact that she's a Mudblood would make most people believe that she was targeted because of her heritage. Unfortunately, given her current outspoken behavior, some people might discern that she was killed for her belief that Potter was alive; that she was eliminated to silence her. That was what Voldemort specifically wanted to avoid. So he decided to go for his second option; make her life so difficult that trying to help Potter would be the least of her concerns. He decided to order his spy to handle this matter. The wizard wrote a note detailing his orders to his spy. As he attached the post to an owl's leg, a knock on the door drew the Dark Lord's attention away from his thoughts on the Granger problem.

"Come in," Voldemort spoke as he sent the owl on its way. Bellatrix entered and bowed before her master.

"I live for my Master," she greeted Voldemort.

"Rise, Bellatrix," Voldemort said kindly. The witch stood and Voldemort noted that she was quite aroused, more than likely, with the thought of today's session. The witch did so savor her work.

"How is the preparation progressing?" Voldemort asked.

"Exceptionally well, my Lord," answered Bellatrix with a pleased voice. "I've finished the first stage of the marking and will start the second phase today."

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he asked genuinely. "I feel that if someone enjoys their task, they do a better job at it."

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix answered with a glow to her face. "His cries are like a serenade… and I so enjoy listening to his ramblings when his mind starts to falter."

"What does he say at these times?"

"It is difficult to understand," began Bellatrix, "but he often fantasizes about being rescued. Then he and his rescuers search for something."

"Really? I wonder what his addled mind wants to search for?"

"Something called Horcruxes," answered Bellatrix.

"WHAT?" Voldemort shouted and shot up from his throne causing Bellatrix to fall to her knees in fear. She did not know what she has said or done. Whatever it was, it had angered her Master greatly.

Voldemort ignored Bellatrix's fear. The boy knew about Horcruxes! Dumbledore must've discovered the Dark Lord's secret and told Potter. Did Potter tell the Order? Snape made no mention of it, but after Dumbledore was murdered and Snape fled, Potter might have revealed the secret to the Order. Voldemort's spy had made no mention of such a revelation, but that did not ease his mind; Potter could have only shared this information with the top members of the Order and thereby the revelation would not have been known to his spy. For all Voldemort knew, Moody or Lupin could be searching for his Horcruxes at that very moment. This was something that Voldemort had to deal with immediately.

With a bemused smile, Voldemort finally noticed that Bellatrix was cowering on the floor like a proper servant. He enjoyed watching people, regardless of who they were — followers or not — wallow in fear.

"Rise, Bellatrix," he commanded and the witch rose to her feet shakily. "I must leave for a short while. Continue preparing Potter while I'm away."

Without another word, Voldemort walked passed Bellatrix. She had been positive that Voldemort was going to punish her; so much so that she had nearly soiled herself. Her hands were trembling with fear. She shook them and chastised herself; a Death Eater does not fear; they make others fear.

**x**

**x**

She was fighting the urge to pack up her trunk and ask her parents to drive her to King's Cross station. Today was the day the Express headed to Hogwarts, but Hermione was not going to be on it.

It had been over two weeks since she, Ron, and Ginny had applied for jobs at the Ministry and yet none of them had heard back yet. Hermione was starting to worry that her application had been declined.

As if on cue, a nondescript barn owl landed on Hermione's windowsill. On the owl's leg was a post with a Ministry seal. Hermione tore the post open and read the letter.

"_Dear Miss Granger,_

_We have decided to accept your application and welcome you to the Ministry. Please arrive here tomorrow morning for orientation for your new position in Muggle Relations._

_Yours,_

_Matilda Grace Booth._"

Hermione was quite pleased. She realized that with this position, at the very least, she'd be able to track what the Death Eaters actions were when they attacked Muggle targets. Hopefully this kind of information would lead to clues about Harry's location.

After showering and dressing, Hermione Apparated to the Burrow to tell Ron and Ginny the good news about her job at the Ministry. When she arrived at the Weasley house, she found Ron looking very ashen, sitting on the couch with Ginny next to him.

"Is everything all right?" asked Hermione.

"I got in," Ron murmured with fear evident in his voice. "I don't believe it…"

"That's fantastic!" heralded Hermione. "What about you Gin?"

With a frown, Ginny handed Hermione her rejection letter and said with disappointment; "They said I'm too young, even with their lowered standards. But they offered me a clerk job with the M. L. E."

"What would you have to do if you took it?" Hermione inquired.

"Oh, take emergency fire-calls, file reports, and the like," Ginny sighed.

"But that's great! That way you'd still be able to come across useful information," offered Hermione. "Not only will you know first hand about Death Eater attacks thanks to taking emergency fire calls, but you can look up past calls as well."

"You're right," Ginny's mood brightened. "I can still help you find Harry. What about you? What job did you get?"

"Muggle Relations," answered Hermione. "I can probably access all the information about Death Eaters and their dealings with Muggles. I start tomorrow. When do you start Ron?"

"I leave for training in a week," he gulped. "I didn't think I'd actually get in."

Hermione patted Ron on the back in a comforting gesture. The brunette was so happy over the thought of all three of them being able to search for Harry, Ron's concern and doubt didn't completely register with her.

**x**

**x**

Minerva McGonagall looked over the faces of the students as she gave her very first welcoming speech as Headmistress of Hogwarts. She was saddened to see so few students this year; only about one-hundred and eighty or so in total. The first year class was so small that the Sorting Ceremony took a mere five minutes, whereas previously, it would have taken the better part of an hour, if not more.

But it didn't matter how many children showed up; this was a school and they had a job to do. If there were two thousand children or just one, McGonagall and her peers were going to teach. It was their duty as instructors.

**x**

**x**

The night he and his teammates attacked those Muggles, Draco and Pansy made love for the first time. Draco was a little rougher than he should've been, but the Muggles' screams of anguish — particularly the young girl's cries as she was violated — were still fresh in his memory and he lost what little control he had. He spent the better part of the next two days apologizing to Pansy for his actions and the pain he had inadvertently caused her. The next time they made love, Draco was very careful not to lose control, which Pansy appreciated.

From then on, the two lovers spent most of their time with each other. Draco soon lost count of how many times they made love. Of course each time they were intimate, Draco focused on the memory of the Muggle girl begging her bewitched brother not to rape her. That memory was incredible to Draco. For days after the event, whenever he had thought of her screams, his blood would heat up and he would become fully erect. He would often close his eyes while making love to Pansy and pretend that she was that filthy Muggle girl begging him not to rape her. It was a dirty and low fantasy for him to have, but it made it heart race and his loins ache.

However, a little over two weeks after the attack, the memory of her screams became less and less potent. One night, he actually had difficulty getting hard enough to penetrate Pansy. It infuriated him; he desperately tried to get aroused, focusing both on Pansy's supple body as well as the Muggle girl's screams. But to no avail. After nearly half an hour, Pansy offered the gem"_It happens all the time_"to Draco and then suggested that they both needed to get some sleep. Pansy fell asleep in his arms a short while later, but Draco could not rest. He was furious with his inadequate performance. He loved Pansy and she deserved a wizard who could please her. Draco had no problem doing just that when the Muggle's screams were fresh in his mind. He wondered how he could please his witch if he couldn't perform.

The next day, an idea came to him; he would repeat the attack on some Muggles. He would listen to them scream and beg for mercy and while their screams were still fresh, he would go and please Pansy like a real wizard should. But he dare not tell Pansy his plan; she would be offended to learn that he enjoyed the Muggles' suffering on such an intimate level. And he couldn't tell any other member of his team for fear of it reaching her. So Draco decided that he would do a Muggle Hunting expedition by himself.

That night he approached Macnair with his request to leave the castle for a bit.

"Why?" Macnair asked simply.

Draco replied a half-truthful answer; "I want to practice the Unforgivables on some Muggles."

"Very good," Macnair said, smiling at the young Death Eater's initiative. "Might I suggest a Muggle park about fifteen miles east of here? It has some secluded areas where you can hone your skills."

Macnair supplied the park's exact location to Draco and the young wizard Apparated to the edge of the park. He arrived shortly after the sun set, the waning light gave the sky a warm purple hue. He saw a group of ten or so people, in their early teens, cleaning up after a late evening picnic. It took him less then ten seconds to identify the girl he was going to use; she was around thirteen years old, fourteen at most, had long blonde hair, and small breasts. She would be perfect. But since Draco could not allow himself to actually touch a lowly Muggle, he needed a boy; a proxy to physically defile the girl in his stead. For that he simply picked a nondescript bystander. The selected boy didn't need to be anything special; Draco was just going to use him as a tool.

Draco pointed his wand at the girl and muttered "_Imperio_" and quickly cast the same on the boy. He was surprised at how adept he had gotten with the Imperius; he could easily control both teens with little effort. He commanded them to walk to him. Thankfully, the other teens were too busy talking amongst themselves to pay attention to the boy and girl.

Draco led his two playthings into the woods nearby. Once he felt they were in far enough, he transfigured several twigs on the ground into large oak trees that formed in a tight, ten foot circle around them, creating a makeshift wall and blocking the view from outside. Draco then cast several Silencing Charms on the tree ring so that the Muggles' screams could not be heard on the other side of the trees. He transfigured a small rock into a large table, and placed it in the exact middle of the room.

The girl followed Draco's mental command and lay on the table. The Death Eater was thinking about magically gluing her to the table much like he had done to the other girl, but he wanted to see her struggle more then the previous Muggle. Draco flicked his wand and four vines shot out of some of the trees and wrapped themselves around her wrists and ankles. The vines then pulled on her limbs, forcing her spread-eagle, with her legs wide open.

Draco ended the Imperius on the girl and she frantically looked around.

"Wh-w-what's going on?" she asked nervously.

Draco felt the urge to toy with the girl, to make her squirm. "My name is Draco, what's yours?" he asked, his voice as cold as ice.

"S-S-Sally," she fearfully stuttered. "Wh-why am I here?"

"To entertain me," Draco replied. The boy, who had been standing behind Draco waiting for his order, moved to the girl. He tore at her clothing until she was completely naked on the table. The entire time the girl was screaming and begging for the boy to stop. She tugged at her bindings which caused her small breast to shake and jiggle. Draco eyed the girl; her breasts looked so soft and warm, the fair hair on her crotch was barely visible. Enticing as her naked form was, it was mostly her screams that caused Draco's manhood to rise.

"Please let me go," the girl begged Draco. "I won't tell anyone."

Draco commanded the boy to lower his trousers. While the boy was unbuckling his belt, the girl's pleas grew more frantic.

"P-p-please…. L-let m-me go," she sobbed. Sally was writhing on the table as she begged and whimpered, trying to get free of the vines. The desperation in her voice caused Draco's penis to become painfully erect.

Once again, Draco forced the sensation of his own arousal into the Muggle boy and commanded him to rape the girl. Sally cried out in pain and fear as the boy violently acted out Draco's fantasy.

Draco's head began to spin. His lust clouded his mind and made him light headed. The Muggle girl's screams touched him deep inside.

Just as before, when the Muggle boy came, so did Draco. His hot seed spattered down his leg as the boy shot his into the girl.

Panting, Draco walked up to the slab and placed the tip of his wand at the boy's neck before silently incanting the Sectumsempra Curse. Sally screamed even more when the boy's blood sprayed on her face. Draco listened to her terror filled cries for a moment. Basking in them, letting them sink into his soul. He felt his organ begin to rise again in his trousers.

Draco repeated the vicious slicing curse on the girl and her cries stopped. He then restored the slab and trees back into a stone and twigs before Apparating back to his Master's castle, leaving the teens where they lay.

The next morning, Muggle police found the two teens' bodies in the forest with their throats slit. They assumed that the boy, fourteen year old Michael Jones, raped the girl, thirteen year old Sally Thomason. Then in a fit of rage and guilt, killed her and then committed suicide. Despite the fact that they could not find the murder weapon, the police believed it was a clear cut case and officially ended the investigation later that day.

Several hours after his two victims' bodies were discovered; Draco made sweet love with Pansy with the delicious sounds of Sally's screams filling his head.

**x**

**x**

Harry knew it was a dream, but he didn't care. As long as he was dreaming then he wasn't feeling the blade cut through his skin.

It was very similar to his previous dream, but instead of Remus and Moody saving him, it was McGonagall and Tonks. Just like the other dream, the voices didn't match the speakers; McGonagall spoke with Remus' voice and Tonks spoke in Moody's.

This time, when Bellatrix stormed in, Harry didn't just want to see her unconscious, he wanted to see her bleed. He leveled McGonagall's spare wand at Bellatrix's chest and screamed "_SECTUMSEMPRA!_"

Even though it was just a dream, Harry knew that it couldn't kill her; he was too weak to perform the curse properly. But it would cut her up, much like she had cut him up. A smile graced Harry's lips as the bitch fell to the floor, bleeding from dozens of slashes across her breasts and chest.

Something inside of Harry swelled with pride as he watched the bitch sob on the floor in pain, clutching her ruined bosom. Harry wanted to taste Bellatrix's lifeblood; he was suddenly curious to find out not only if it tasted good, but he wanted to find out if he could taste her agony as well.

As Bellatrix cried out in pain and twitched on the floor, Tonks turned Harry's slab into a Portkey and the three of them traveled to number twelve. The moment he arrived, both Hermione and Ginny threw their arms around him again. This time however, instead of kissing his cheeks, Ginny was kissing the scars on the sides of Harry's neck and Hermione was kissing the corner of his mouth. Her lips were warm and tasted like strawberries.

The thing inside Harry, the part that enjoyed seeing Bellatrix in pain, craved more, much more from Hermione and Ginny. Harry found himself wanting to take Ginny from behind and then eat Hermione's womanhood. But again, such thoughts weren't suitable, even in dreams, so Harry forced those feelings to the back of his mind. It was an odd and alien desire for Harry. Yes he did love Ginny and he wanted to do such things to her eventually, but Hermione was his friend and never had such obscene desires for her before.

Hermione and Ginny spent the next few days nursing Harry as he lie on his table in the nude. Ron appeared once more and asked for a game of chess.

As Ron set up the chess table, Hermione placed her hand on Harry's bare thigh while Ginny examined his scars.

While Harry watched Ron set up the table, Hermione slowly moved her hand up so that it was resting near Harry's genitals. He gasped in surprise as her fingers brushed up against his manhood. With a blush to her face, Hermione smiled at him.

"These are really beautiful," Ginny commented, tracing the scars. "If I ever meet Bella, I'll have to give her my compliments on a well done job."

Ron was even more brutal in his tactics than the first dream. He somehow crushed all of Harry pawns in just two turns. But once again, Ron openly asked what to do with his castle.

"Take out your own castle, Ron," Ginny offered. "No one would expect that."

As Ron's knight pummeled his own castle into rubble sending bits of the black stone that made up the castle tumbling across the board, Harry turned to Hermione and asked; "Doesn't it bother you to have your hand on me like that?"

Hermione smiled sweetly and her fingertips brushed up against his flaccid manhood.

"Harry, you're my friend and I love you," Hermione stated. "I'm just showing that love in a different way."

A sharp pain in his side brought Harry out of his dream and back to reality; a nightmare reality where Bellatrix torturously carved symbols into his flesh.

**x**

**x**

The first few days of Hermione's Ministry employment were very hectic. She was shocked to see that her new supervisor was the Order of the Phoenix member named Martha; the same Martha who was adamant about not letting Hermione join.

"The name's Patterson," Martha introduced herself as if she had never seen Hermione before. It was obvious that she was pretending to do so because she didn't want it known that she was an Order member. Hermione played along.

"I'm Hermione Granger," she introduced herself, holding out her hand to greet her supervisor.

"Your desk is over there." Martha refused the younger witch's hand and pointed to a tiny desk behind her. "That's Paul and Wanda," she added pointing to the wizard and witch at the other two desks. "If you have any questions, ask them. I'm too busy to deal with you."

Martha's distaste for Hermione was blatantly obvious by the tone of her voice. Hermione could tell that the witch wanted nothing to do with her much less be in the same room that she was in.

The middle aged witch walked over to Hermione's desk and tapped it with her wand.

"That will make sure you stay busy and not uselessly dawdle," Martha said.

Suddenly, dozens of folded paper airplanes glided into the office. Several landed on Paul and Wanda's desk, but the majority of them landed on Hermione's. She had gotten at least twice as much as her coworkers combined. Hermione opened one of the airplanes and discovered that they were reports of Muggles witnessing magic.

Her suspicion about Martha's attitude toward her was proven over the next few days when the older witch would come in and recast the spells to attract the paper airplanes on the desks. Paul and Wanda would get roughly half the amount of work Hermione got. She also noticed that Martha was rarely ever in the office outside of recasting the charms. Hermione's co-workers only spoke to her when she would ask them a direct question. To make matters worse, usually their answers were very curt and uninformative; as if her co-workers believed that Hermione wanted to steal their knowledge and use it for her own gain without giving either of them credit.

Despite the lack of support or training, Hermione learned her job relatively easily. Her duties consisted of investigating instances dealing with Muggles that had either witnessed or had been affected by magic. The paper airplanes that flew onto her desk came from the M. L. E. Floo call center — the position that Ginny was assigned to — and would often list alerts from magical citizens concerning Muggles and magic.

Most of the time, it was nothing but false alarms. One of the first alerts that Hermione had gotten dealt with a wizard who went wandering in a Muggle town and stumbled into a darkened auditorium where a number of Muggles were sitting watching a giant moving image on a large screen. The wizard had assumed that some witch or wizard had played a prank on those Muggles and demanded that the Ministry send over a team of Obliviators and alter their memories straight away. Hermione wrote a letter to the wizard explaining that he had walked into a cinema and that he shouldn't be concerned; it was a Muggle form of entertainment.

A number of the other alerts were simple things; such as a Muggle seeing a wizard flying on a broom or a witch Apparating away. In these circumstances, Hermione would forward the alert onto the Obliviators and they would dispatch a team to go and adjust the Muggle's memories.

But occasionally, an alert came to Hermione's desk about an attack. When this happened, Hermione was sent along with a group of M. L. E. officers, an Auror, and a group of Obliviators to the scene of the attack. The Auror and M. L. E. officers were sent in hopes of apprehending the Death Eaters. It was the job of the Obliviators to alter the memories of the Muggle victims, if any survived, as well as any witnesses; to remove any recollection of magic. Hermione's position in these field assignments was as a so-call Muggle Expert, helping the Obliviators and M. L. E.

On her first outing, a Muggle assaulted by a Death Eater, Hermione had to stop an overanxious M. L. E. officer from hexing a passing automobile. "That thing ate a Muggle," the officer protested. "I saw it!"

Hermione had spent the next five minutes trying to convince the officer that the Muggle wasn't eaten by the car, but, was instead, driving it.

It was during this first mission that Hermione met up with Susan Bones, her former classmate. It turned out that Susan had joined the Ministry shortly after leaving Hogwarts and was employed as an Obliviator. Hermione and Susan talked briefly while the M. L. E. searched for clues.

For the past week, Hermione had performed her duties of Muggle Relations a minimum of ten hours a day, from eight in the morning to six in the evening, while her co-workers put in no more than a seven hour day. But once she was done with her job, she would spend a few hours each night scouring though records, both current and past, concerning Death Eater activity. Thankfully her position allowed her access to a number of such records. After a few days, she had a mountain of notes and comments on Death Eater sightings and attacks. Unfortunately, all the information Hermione had collected appeared to be random; she couldn't detect any pattern or discern their base of operations.

On Thursday night, around quarter of ten, while Hermione was pouring through the day's files concerning Death Eaters, she suddenly remembered that Ron was scheduled to leave for training the next day. Hermione quickly shoved the reports back into their files and Apparated to the Burrow. Hermione entered the Weasley house to find Ginny about to enter the Floo.

"'Lo, Hermione," Ginny greeted her with a yawn. "Ron's in his room, I'm off to work. They've got me working the graveyard shift."

Hermione offered Ginny her apologies for such a lousy shift and walked up the stairs. She knocked on Ron's door.

"Come in," Ron said. Hermione could tell by the sound of his voice that he was nervous about heading off to training. She opened the door and Ron's mood lightened. "Hey 'Monie," the red head greeted her.

Hermione hated it when people called her that; in her mind, she saw such alterations as a mockery of her name. But judging by the worry in Ron's eyes over his impending training, Hermione decided not to lecture him and let it pass.

"How are you holding up?" Hermione asked and she sat next to him on his bed.

"Alright, I guess," he lied obviously. Hermione could tell that Ron was so nervous that he looked like he was going to be physically ill.

Hermione felt very bad for Ron's state; he was worried sick over the prospect of his training and it had been eating him up inside. Knowing him, Ron was more than likely thinking that he wasn't good enough and that he'd fail miserably. She should've helped him deal with his worries for the past week, but she was so busy with work and trying to find Harry, that she had forgotten about Ron. After all, the two of them were together now and Hermione rationalized that she ought to have been by Ron's side during this trying time for him. She held his hand in support and was taken back at how cold and clammy it was.

Ron squeezed her fingers as if he was a drowning man hanging onto a lifeline. He wanted to be a better wizard and not be bitter that his girlfriend wasn't with him this past week. After all, she had been searching for their friend. But deep down inside, he was upset that she wasn't there to support him as he reckoned a proper girlfriend should do. Ron pushed those negative feelings to the side; she was with him now and he appreciated the gesture.

He looked into her eyes and saw her worry and compassion. Hesitantly, Ron leaned in and kissed her lips. Their lips met and warmth filled his body. He continued the kiss and leaned his body into hers.

Hermione's heart fluttered with uncertainness as Ron's pressed his chest against her bosom. His kisses slowly became more passionate; more so then the two had done in the past. His tongue pushed against her lips as if he were demanding entrance. Hermione had never kissed in that manner and was fearful of it; would she do it wrong? Were they going too fast? But Hermione realized that she was being childish and selfish. She and Ron had been together for over two months now, and she decided she should give him some pleasure before he left.

The witch parted her lips to allow Ron access. The red head's tongue charged at the opening. He had been waiting like a good boyfriend for this to happen and now he was being rewarded for his patience. When he and Lavender had gotten together, they had wasted no time in reaching this point. He had been aggravated that Hermione had been hesitant to go even this far. But now she had overcome her reluctance and Ron happily plunged his tongue into her warm mouth.

Hermione tried to relax and flow with the moment, but it was rather difficult for her. Her muscles tensed up, her back became uncomfortably rigid and her jaw was open so wide that it started to hurt. Ron was shoving and pushing his tongue in every direction in her mouth, mashing into the insides of her cheeks and jostling her tongue this way and that. It was as if he was battling her for supremacy and dominance. But she forced herself to accept it; this was for Ron after all.

Ron's hand moved up her body like it was moving under some strange compulsion of its own and fondled her breast. Ron groaned into Hermione's mouth with pleasure at the sensation of having her pert mound in his palm.

A groan of discomfort and annoyance escaped Hermione's throat. Ron was squashing her breast much like one would squeeze the water out of a sponge. Not only was it somewhat painful, she had not wanted to go this far. This was for Ron; to make him feel comfortable and confident, but Ron just had to push past her boundaries. She reached up and withdrew his hand and set it on his lap but continued to let him kiss her aggressively.

'_Damn it! This is my night! Why is she acting like a frightened little girl?_' Ron wondered. The first night he was with Lavender, Ron had been allowed to play with her tits through her blouse as much as he wanted. But he and Hermione have been together for weeks now, and she still wasn't letting him touch her tit. It was stupid to just hold hands while snogging, he thought.

_'Stop it mate,'_ Ron mentally chastised himself. _'She's just a little nervous is all, give her time.'_

Ron realized that he needed to do this slowly, but not too slowly. Perhaps he could nudge her a little. He gently placed his hand on her knee and continued to kiss his girlfriend.

Hermione didn't mind having his hand on her knee; it actually felt nice and comfortable. But after a short while, that hand started to creep up her thigh, inch by inch. She was tempted to remove it, much like she had before, but she felt like she was being too prudish. Unfortunately, Ron mistook Hermione's acceptance of his hand on her thigh as an invitation to go further.

Ignoring his vow of giving Hermione time, Ron's hand slipped under her skirt in a rapid and swift motion. Lost in the moment, he allowed his fingers to hook around Hermione's knickers. She recoiled from him and slapped him across the face.

Hermione shot up and stormed out of his room and out of the house. Hermione was absolutely furious about Ron crossing the line while the young wizard was left wondering why she was sending him mixed messages.

**x**

**x**

After two weeks of checking on his Horcruxes that were hidden across the globe, Voldemort returned to his castle in a foul temper. He had been unable to locate Slytherin's locket or ring. He had to assume that they had been destroyed much like his diary was years before. In all, that meant he had lost three fragments of his soul.

The Dark Lord was in such a foul mood that he needed something to cheer him up and he knew just how to do it. But before he could entertain himself, he had to talk to someone.

Lord Voldemort knocked on his underling's door. When Draco opened it, the blond wizard almost soiled himself upon seeing his Master.

"My Lord," Draco greeted Voldemort and bowed.

Voldemort pushed passed Draco, and with Macnair following, the Dark Lord entered Draco's chambers. Pansy, who was sitting on Draco's cot, immediately fell to her knees and bowed to her Master.

"I need to speak to you, Draco, and to you as well, Pansy," began Voldemort in a friendly and casual tone.

Draco was flabbergasted, when the Dark Lord wanted to talk to someone, he would always call that person to his throne room. To have the Dark Lord call upon him in his personal quarters was a great honor.

"In a few weeks time, a very special mission will be conducted," Voldemort continued. "And I need both of you to join in that mission."

"Anything my Lord!" Draco almost fainted at the honor. Ever since he had returned bearing the sack full of reptilian scales, he had not gotten a chance to prove himself to his Master. The young wizard was itching to make himself worthy.

"It won't be easy and you might get hurt," warned Voldemort.

"We live for our Master," answered Draco, while Pansy nodded her head in agreement. "We will do anything you say."

"Very good," Voldemort said. "I can't go into too much detail at this time, but on this mission, you will assist me and my most elite Death Eaters directly."

"How can I assist you, sire?" Draco knew that he was nowhere near the skill level that Voldemort's elite were at and was curious as to what the Dark Lord wanted him to do.

"On the mission, I need both of you to pick out a certain type of person so that they can be brought back here."

"Wh-what type of person?" stammered Draco. He knew that it was unwise to ask the Dark Lord so many questions, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

Voldemort simply replied, "Virgins."

Draco's mind wandered to the time he had that Muggle boy rape the virgin girl in the park. He remembered how much her fear, pain, and blood turned him on. His loins stirred at the memory.

Voldemort saw the look of lust in the boy's eyes. Using passive Legilimency, Voldemort saw the memory of the Muggle girl being raped flash in Draco's mind.

"Draco, I was so pleased with the mission you and Wormtail performed. The items you retrieved are of great value to me and I've decided to share something very important with you," added Voldemort. Draco forced the erotic memories to the back of his mind and focused on his Master. "I must warn you, this is a secret and I insist that you take an Unbreakable Vow before I proceed."

"Yes sire," Draco knelt as if in prayer to his Dark Lord.

"Very good," Voldemort stated and knelt in front of Draco. The two wizards clasped hands and Macnair muttered an incantation. A rope of fire sprang out of Macnair's wand and it wrapped around Draco and Voldemort's hands.

"You must not tell anyone what I am about to show you," began Voldemort.

"I swear," Draco replied. His heart was filled with so much joy that he thought it would burst. His Master thought that Draco was important enough to share this secret with him. This meant that he was no longer the lowly, insignificant cog.

"Not your mother, father, your friends or teammates," continued Voldemort, "and not Severus."

"No one, my liege," agreed Draco. The flames fused with the two wizards' flesh without burning them.

Voldemort repeated the ritual with Pansy.

"Thank you," Voldemort said as he stood, and helped Pansy stand.

"Thank you for trusting me, sire," Draco said with a smile.

"Thank you, Master," echoed Pansy.

"Follow me," ordered Voldemort, leading Draco, Pansy, and Macnair out of the chamber. The four walked through dozens of halls and Draco had lost track of where they were going quickly. Soon they arrived at a heavy door that was guarded by two Death Eaters. Voldemort opened this door and ushered Draco, Pansy, and Macnair into the cell.

Draco saw a man he knew as Smyth holding an old book in the corner of the room. He also saw his aunt, Bellatrix, leaning over a naked man lying on a slab. Draco could not see the man because Bellatrix was blocking Draco's view of his torso, face, and head, but he could see that the man had ugly fresh scars on his legs. The vicious scars appeared to be ritualistic in design. Pansy cruelly sniggered at the unknown person's exposed and naked shame.

"How are things proceeding, Bellatrix?" asked Voldemort.

Harry's blood chilled at the sound of Voldemort's voice. Bile flooded his throat and rage filled his mind. The Dark Lord was going to gloat over Harry while he was being tortured. Harry wanted to strangle the snake.

Bellatrix shot up and with a smile, replied, "Fantastic Master."

The silver dagger in her hand dripped blood. Draco saw that she had been carving runes and other symbols into the man's chest. Draco finally recognized the man on the slab. It was Potter!

Potter's skin had gone deathly pale. Draco could easily see that the half-blood's muscles had atrophied so much that he had begun to take on the appearance of a skeleton with skin. It was obvious that Potter wasn't even strong enough to lift his hand anymore, much less stand or walk.

The cuts that Bellatrix had just made were overlapping fresh scars. The combination of gashes and scars made a dizzying myriad of runes and designs that Draco couldn't make out.

"Your aunt does beautiful work, doesn't she Draco?" Voldemort asked.

"Yes, sire," the blond wizard replied.

"Please continue," requested Voldemort of Bellatrix.

With a wicked grin, Bellatrix went back to carving symbols and designs into Potter's chest. Voldemort's heart swelled with happiness at the suffering of the person who was responsible for making him exist as nothing more than a pitiful shade for thirteen years. Draco was completely mesmerized by the look in Potter's eyes; so full of lovely pain and hatred.

The anger Harry had felt when he destroyed Dumbledore's office at the end of his fifth year and the rage he felt after Snape murdered the Headmaster were nothing to what he was feeling at that moment laying on the slab. Voldemort and his goons, including Draco, were watching, as if at a Quidditch match, as Bellatrix continued the sadistic torture. Harry swore to himself that he would make them pay for their transgressions with their blood.

**x**

**x**

It was obvious with just one glance; many of the potions that Severus had made and stockpiled since arriving at his Master's castle were each missing a number of dosages.

When he was the Potion Master at Hogwarts, he had the liberty of keeping his creations under lock and key, where no one could even see them much less touch them without his consent. If someone had stolen his potions, Severus would've hunted the thief down like an animal.

But now that he was again working directly for the Dark Lord and brewing potions for him, Severus no longer had that right. Everything he made was for the Dark Lord now. And he could do what he wished with the potions with or without informing Severus.

**x**

**x**

Ron groggily stepped out of the bathroom and stumbled into the hall. He hadn't slept well after Hermione stormed out. And to add insult to injury, his balls were aching due to being teased so much by his girlfriend the night before.

"Morning Ron," Ginny greeted him as she trudged up the stairs. She yawned widely, obviously exhausted from her overnight shift. "How'd it go last night?"

Ron just grumbled angrily in response.

"Don't tell me you two didn't do the deed last night?" she asked.

"No," he rumbled.

"Why not?"

"I don't know," he snapped. "We were snogging and then she slapped me and ran out."

"Did you do something to upset her?"

"No, I just reached into her skirt," Ron said. "I dunno, maybe she was scared."

"Scared of what?" Ginny asked.

"We hadn't gone that far yet," Ron admitted.

"Wait a second. I know you two haven't had sex, but you're telling me you've never put your hand up her skirt before last night?" Ginny demanded.

"No," answered Ron. "I think she wants to take it slow."

"How long have you two been dating?"

"A while," Ron replied.

"For months now," Ginny corrected. "Ron, on my second date with Dean, I gave him a blow-job in a broom cupboard."

Ron recoiled away from his sister, scandalized.

"It's no big deal Ron," said Ginny, dismissing Ron's reaction. "I liked him and he liked me back. It was the natural thing to do. Has Hermione given you head at least?"

Ron remained silent.

"Has she even touched your willy?" Ginny pushed on.

"No," growled Ron Bitterly.

"For Merlin's sake Ron," exclaimed the young witch. "There's taking things slow and there's being just frigid."

Ron nodded his head. He had heard tales from his fellow classmates where they had gotten wanked off by a witch on their first date. And yet, Hermione still hadn't even touched his crotch, even after months of being together.

"I'll talk to her," offered Ginny, "see why she's so hesitant. There's got to be more to her hesitation besides wanting to take it slow."

"Thanks," Ron muttered. He hated to have his little sister help him, but he was growing desperate.

"Maybe I'll convince her to give you a little something when you get back from training," added Ginny. "Speaking of which, shouldn't you head off about now."

"Yeah," Ron moaned in apprehension.

"Don't worry," Ginny said with a smile. "I'll talk to Hermione. The next time you see her, she'll pop that bad-boy into her mouth," she said while pointing at Ron's groin.

"Ginny!" Ron exclaimed and blushed with embarrassment.

"If you're lucky, I'll convince her to swallow," she added with a mischievous smile.

Ron blushed even further, and Ginny gave him a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't worry about it Ron," she comforted him. "Everything will be okay."

With his spirits lifted thanks to his sister, Ron walked down to the kitchen to join his parents. They had promised that they would go with him to the Ministry to see him off.

**x**

**x**

"How dare he?" Hermione fumed as she got ready for work the next morning. She had wanted to show him a little compassion, and the git took it as an invitation to shag. He had crossed the line!

But she realized that he had to have been nervous about his training. Hermione began to wonder if she should have been a little more forgiving last night. After all, it was the last time the two of them would be together for weeks. Hermione decided that she should at least smooth things over and talk with Ron before he left. She Apparated to the Burrow and knocked on the door.

"Hello Hermione," Ginny said as she opened the door. "You just missed Ron. Mum and Dad went with him to see him off."

"Damn," cursed Hermione.

"He looked a little upset before he left. Did you two have a fight or something last night?" asked Ginny.

"Yes," acknowledged Hermione. "I felt he crossed the line and I slapped him."

"What the hell did he do?" Ginny asked with worry and anger etched across her face.

"He tried to pull down my panties," Hermione admitted softly.

"That bastard," hissed Ginny. Tears began to well up in her eyes. "How could he do that?"

"It's okay, Ginny," Hermione said, consoling the younger witch. She had not expected Ginny to react in such a way when she told her what happened. "It had to be my fault. I must have sent him mixed messages or something."

"That isn't an excuse," Ginny snapped, the anger she felt toward her brother was evident in her eyes.

"It wasn't that big of a deal," Hermione explained. "I'm just not ready for that yet."

"That's exactly what makes it a big deal, Hermione," argued Ginny as a heavy tear fell. "There's nothing worse than when a wizard thinks he can push things when a witch isn't ready."

Behind Ginny's anger, Hermione heard a touch of sadness in her words. As if she knew first hand what it felt like being pushed.

"Ginny, what happened?" Hermione asked, putting her hand on the younger girl's.

"Oh Hermione," cried Ginny and tears spilled down her face. "When I was with Dean, he felt we weren't going fast enough…" she hiccupped, "…it was only our second date."

"What did he do?" Hermione demanded.

"He told me I had to go down on him or he'd tell everyone that I was a slut," she sobbed.

"That son of a…" cursed Hermione.

"It was awful," Ginny continued through her tears. "I didn't want to…. but he made me get on my knees and put… it in my mouth."

Ginny collapsed into Hermione's arms. The brunette witch held her like one would hold a hurt child.

"I'm so sorry, Ginny," Hermione said, her own tears streaming down her face in sympathy.

"You shouldn't be pressured into doing something you're not ready to do," Ginny said while hiccupping. "I don't care if he's my brother. If you're not ready, he should wait for you."

With her eyes red and swollen, Ginny looked at Hermione and pleaded with her, "Please don't let him pressure you. Promise me."

"I promise, sweetie," Hermione said and rubbed Ginny's back comfortingly. "I promise."

The two witches cried in each others arms for a good long while. After their tears had dried up, Hermione said, "I'm so sorry, Ginny. I didn't know you had problems with Dean."

"No one did," Ginny sniffed back a tear. "I acted like a good little girlfriend and did what he wanted. But after a while, he started to get bored with me and I was able to slowly pull away from him. The day before Harry first kissed me; Dean regained his interest and threatened me again. He wanted me to do something rather, well… disgusting with Seamus while he watched. Thankfully Harry made his move and Dean didn't dare threaten me any more. Harry saved me yet again – first from the basilisk and then from a perverted boy."

"Did you ever tell Harry about this?" Hermione asked.

"No, I was afraid that Harry would seek revenge and get in trouble," Ginny said sadly. "I really do miss him."

"So do I," Hermione agreed. She truly did miss him. Even with his mood swings and other faults, Harry was Hermione's best friend; even more than Ron ever was. Hermione missed talking with him, how she would lean in close to him and whisper something in his ear. But she also missed having him near her; whenever he was close she had always felt that he would protect her. She had lost count how many times something at school had frightened her and how she would grab onto Harry for support like she had when she had first seen Hippogriffs. Or how he would try and protect her, like during their first encounter with Grawp or even jumping on the Troll during their first year.

**x**

**x**

Shortly before lunch, Lord Voldemort strolled through his castle with warm feeling of happiness filling his body. Of course, when Voldemort was happy, that usually meant that people were suffering or about to die horribly.

He had received word from Yaxley that their "_tall friends_" were two weeks worth of travel away from the target. It was a slow process of only moving short distances at night and far from populated areas. They did not want to alert the Ministry of Magic to the presence of a large group of giants led by a team of Death Eaters. No, surprise was necessary for Voldemort's plan.

Voldemort had also just visited Ollivander in the workshop and was pleased to hear that the old man was nearly finished with the necessary amulets. Everything was moving along as designed. Soon, Voldemort's enemies would be brought to their knees.

To make his day complete, Voldemort decided to check on the progress of his future pet as well as to give Bellatrix some necessary items needed for the ritual. He silently entered Potter's cell. Unnoticed by Bellatrix and Smyth, he observed the witch as she worked.

She had informed him yesterday that she had completed the parts of the ritual preparation dealing with carving the runes and symbols in the boy's body. She was going to spend the rest of the time "checking" her work. Voldemort watched with fascination as Bellatrix ran the blade's tip through the boy's scars, reopening them. Blood swelled and flowed from the gashes. Potter was trying his best not to make any sounds of pain, but pitiful groaning escaped his lips. It was intoxicating for Voldemort.

"You are truly an artist, my dear Bella," Voldemort whispered in the evil witch's ear.

Warmth passed through her body at her Master's praise. A proud smile graced her lips as she blushed. "Thank you, my Lord."

"I've brought you the rune stones," he announced and placed a small leather bag that one might carry coins in on the slab next to Potter.

Bellatrix set down her knife and turned the bag over, spilling its contents on the slab. Fourteen half spheres tumbled out of the bag and came to rest next to Potter's thigh – each was nearly an inch in diameter. The witch picked up one of the spheres delicately, as if it needed to be cherished. The black object glistened in the torchlight. The runes were etched on the domed side of the half sphere. Bellatrix never studied runes, but according to the book that described the ritual, the runes included "_strength,_""_power,_""_bravery,_""_loyalty,_""_force,_""_fear,_"and"_veneration_"_._

While Bellatrix examined the tiny objects, Voldemort strolled to the head of the table. He loomed over the boy's face and smiled down at him.

"I was going to say_ 'this will hurt me more than it'll hurt you',_" he said in his high, cold voice. "But that would be a lie."

Voldemort waved his wand over Harry's face. Suddenly, Harry's mouth was forced open, as if invisible hands pried his jaw apart. The Dark Lord pulled from out of his robes a vial containing some kind of purple liquid and forced the fluid down Potter's throat.

"Don't worry, Harry, this isn't the part that will hurt you," Voldemort said with fake concern. "The potion is harmless. It's often used by elderly wizards who want to satisfy their wives."

Harry couldn't help but to swallow the potion. It tingled as it slid down into his belly. In a few seconds, the tingling sensation traveled to the young wizard's groin. Slowly, Harry felt pressure build up in his loins.

Bellatrix smiled at Potter as she watched his manhood grow. For some men, when aroused, their length and girth may change only slightly from their flaccid to erect states. But with other men, their organ grows significantly. Potter was in the latter group. He wasn't the largest Bellatrix had seen, but the half-blood was impressive; significantly larger than average. Even though the thought of bedding Potter was repugnant to her because he was nothing more than an impure wizard, she had to admit she was impressed with his manhood. He was considerably larger than her husband in both length and girth. So much so that Bellatrix knew that the young witches that her Master would choose for his pet would be quite satisfied.

Harry was mortified and frightened at the same time. He tried to fight it, but whatever the potion was that Voldemort had given him, caused his penis to become fully and painfully erect. Even though the people in the room had seen him completely naked everyday since he was kidnapped, it was still embarrassing to be in an aroused state in front of them. But what frightened Harry was why they needed the young wizard to be erect. He was terrified that they were going to molest and rape him. Or worse yet; scarify his organ much like they had done to the rest of his body. The thought of Bellatrix's blade slicing through the sensitive skin of his manhood terrified Harry.

"I think you will want to watch this," Voldemort commented to Harry. "It should be interesting."

The snake-like wizard waved his wand once more and a large mirror appeared hovering in midair over Harry's prone body. The mirror was so long that Harry could now see his entire form. His body was ruined; his wasted form now resembled one of the poor souls from Auschwitz Harry had seen in his Muggle history books. Added to the shock of his devastated body were the many disturbing scars that covered most of his skin. Only his face, stomach, and groin remained untouched.

Bellatrix bent over Harry's groin and placed one of the rune covered half-spheres against the hyper sensitive flesh of his shaft. With her finger holding the rune to his organ, she then picked up her wand with her free hand. Bellatrix then tapped the sphere with her wand. A soft glow began to emanate from the stone rune. Bellatrix removed her finger, but the rune remained on Harry's skin, as if it was attached. A sudden and intense pain ripped through Harry's groin. It felt as if his penis was being cut open and twisted at the same time.

Smyth, who had been standing off to the side with the book in his hands as always, cringed at the sight before him. He knew that this would happen. The book had been very specific as to what would occur. But it still didn't prepare him for it when he actually saw it happen. Just the sight of Potter's penis being mangled by the rune-stone was enough to make Smyth cringe in pain.

After being tapped, the small, glowing black rune stone burrowed into Potter's flesh. Blood trickled down his shaft as the half-sphere cut open his skin and dug in and buried itself, like some sort of burrowing beetle.

Harry watched in pain and horror as the object buried itself under the skin of his organ. It took the object three seconds to disappear under the young wizard's flesh. The small gash in his flesh sealed up and a large bulge was now evident where the rune covered half-ball had come to rest under the skin of his member.

Harry was in agony. Even though he had been cut mercilessly over the past few weeks, his torturers had not touched his genitals. His skin on his manhood, as is every man's skin, was so sensitive that even the slightest injury would cause intense pain. Not only had the object tore his sensitive flesh, but it was now embedded under it, causing it to stretch painfully. Tears of pain flowed down his face.

"One down, thirteen to go," Voldemort said with cruelty.

Another scream erupted from Harry's throat as Bellatrix repeated the process with a second half-sphere. Smyth recoiled and felt sympathy for the boy for the first time since the preparation had begun. Voldemort smiled while the second rune covered object took its place under Potter's flesh, a few centimeters away from the first. Bellatrix shivered with sadistic joy.

Twenty agonizing minutes later, Harry's groin was coated with his own blood. He was trembling in pain; it felt as if his crotch was being crushed and ground into pulp. He stared in wide-eyed terror at his penis. Fourteen large bulges covered and marred his penis. They had been placed all over his shaft in a seemingly random pattern. Even through the blood that coated his organ, Harry could see a dark purple bruise rapidly developing over his stretched skin.

As the potion that Voldemort gave him started to wear off, Harry's penis slowly returned to its flaccid state. The objects under his skin collided and pushed into each other as his organ shrank, causing Harry even more pain. When he lost the erection completely, his organ looked to be mutilated and deformed.

"Pardon me, Master, may I be excused," Bellatrix said breathily. The excitement of today's session had made her dizzy with lust and she needed to calm herself.

"Of course," her Master said sweetly. "We are finished here for the day. You did a wonderful job, Bella. You made me proud."

"Thank you sire," Bellatrix bowed before walking out of the cell and heading straight for her private chambers.

"You may leave as well," Voldemort said to the sickly looking Smyth. The little wizard bowed nervously to his Master before scurrying to his chambers.

Voldemort left Potter in his cell and went to have his lunch.

Bellatrix wished that she could put rune stones into her husband Rodolphus' shaft much like she had done with Potter. Not only would her lover's pain be intoxicating as she forced the half-spheres into his manhood, but his performance afterwards would be exquisite. Those bumps and swells on his shaft would feel so good in her. The mere thought of such a thing made her wet with desire.

Whereas Bellatrix was pleasuring herself, Smyth fought the urge to throw up in his own chambers. The images of the boy's penis being mutilated haunted him.

In his cell, Harry wept as his body still burned in agony. He tried to block out the pain by thinking of what he would do to that vile fiend Voldemort and his bitch Bellatrix if he ever got free. The thought of the pain that he wanted to inflict on them dulled his own slightly.

**To be continued…**

**Author's Note:** just to reiterate, this story does have a slow build up.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Four

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

**x**

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**x**

Getting Ginny calmed down after the shocking revelation that Dean had forced her to perform sexual acts on him took much longer than Hermione could have guessed. The poor witch was so distraught that Hermione had to stay and comfort her; there was no way she would have abandoned a friend at a time like this. In all, Hermione had gotten to work nearly three hours late. Martha vowed to make her life miserable for her tardiness. And she made good on that promise. The middle aged witch announced to Paul and Wanda that since Hermione had taken time off without permission, they could do the same for a week; Hermione would do their work for them while they were gone, as her punishment. Hermione's two co-workers gladly took the week long paid holiday.

For that entire week, Hermione was forced to work fifteen hour shifts in order to cover all the reports that she and her two co-workers received. Unfortunately, she wasn't able to go through the reports on Death Eater activity for more than a few minutes a day, simply because she was too exhausted from her long shift to work any more than she already had. She barely had enough energy to go straight to her parent's home where she was staying until she could find a place of her own every night.

The day her co-workers returned from their time off, Hermione decided to treat herself during her lunch break and actually have a meal for change, instead of wolfing down her sack lunch at her desk as had been the norm for her the past week. She had originally resolved to spend that time trying to catch up on the reports dealing with Death Eaters. But the sheer amount of reports that had accumulated in that long week was almost too much to even begin to tackle during her lunch hour. Instead, Hermione decided to spoil herself with a proper lunch break to rest and recharge before diving into her extensive research mode.

Hermione took the lift up from the lobby of the Ministry of Magic to Muggle London. The smell of good old fashioned chips filled her nose and led her to a small fish and chips stand half a block away. As Hermione got her order of fried food, a familiar voice called out to her.

"'lo Hermione, over here," Susan Bones greeted her from a nearby park bench.

Susan was sitting on the bench with another witch; it was clear to Hermione the woman with Susan was a witch based on the way she dressed. When most magical folk try to dress like Muggles, they usually failed miserably due to their self-imposed isolation and seemingly culture wide bizarre color sense. They tend to not only mix horrible, clashing colors, but they also intermix styles and gender specific clothing, like skirts on men and top hats on women. But Susan and her friend were dressed very well and stylishly. Stylish that is if they lived in certain bygone eras.

Susan was wearing a powder blue flapper dress that did little to hide her overly buxom figure. Her new short bobbed haircut accentuated the notion that Susan was emulating fashion from the '20's. Hermione imagined with great amusement that Susan would jump up and dance the Charleston at any moment. Susan's friend was wearing a short dress, accentuated with a number of polka-dots of various sizes and vibrant colors, that stopped just below her bum. It looked like the witch had raided the wardrobe of a 1960's mod model. And since this witch was built like Twiggy Lawson, the dress looked smashing on her.

Hermione was very surprised to see this mod witch sitting with Susan was Daphne Greengrass. Daphne was one of Hermione's classmates from Slytherin House; and due to the silly house rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin, she never actually had a chance to talk with her.

Hermione sat on the bench next to Susan.

"I know I don't have to introduce her since we were all in the same year, but this is Daphne," Susan said. "Daphne works with Magistrate Fitzsimmons; she's his assistant."

"Hello." Hermione reached across the red-head to shake Daphne's hand in greeting.

"I've seen you a few times, running about through the Ministry, but I haven't seen you lately," Daphne began. "What have you been doing?"

"Oh, just working like mad," Hermione replied. She didn't want to tell the truth that she was searching for her best friend, Harry. More likely than not, they would pity her and then attempt to convince the brunette witch that such a search would be fruitless for they would undoubtedly believe Harry to be dead. So Hermione kept the truth to herself.

"So what brings you out today?" Susan asked. The red-head enjoyed the occasions when she got to work alongside Hermione, and hoped that they could become friends.

"I've had a rough week," Hermione said. "I just decided to treat myself."

"Wizard problems?" asked Daphne.

With a sigh, Hermione answered; "Is it that obvious?" It seemed that all of her problems had been caused by wizards lately; Ron with his overactive libido and more time consuming, the search for Harry.

"Well, I was just playing statistics," Daphne explained. "You see, it's a universal truth; most of witch's problems are caused by a wizard. Whether its issues with your social life or issues with work, nine times out of ten, there's a wizard behind a witches' problems."

"Isn't that the truth," Susan agreed.

The three witches shared a laugh. Hermione was a little taken back at the ease she felt with these two. She had only a brief working experience with Susan; and this was the first time that she had ever spoken to Daphne. But Hermione felt as if she could talk to the two of them about her problems with Ron; her concerns could be understood by her two peers because as witches, they undoubtedly had similar problems as she. Also Hermione instinctively knew that discussing her problems and feelings would be therapeutic.

"I'm just having problems with Ron," Hermione stated. She didn't want to bore the two witches by complaining about how her boss was trying to make her life difficult, she was afraid that she would come across as spoiled, since everybody's job probably involved an overbearing boss or coworker. And she didn't want to tell them about Harry; she figured the two witches wouldn't understand her conviction of Harry being alive, just like everyone else.

"What kind of problems?" Susan asked.

"He… he…" Hermione began hesitantly. "He wants to take things faster than I want to."

"Typical," commented Daphne.

"Would this be your first time?" asked Susan.

Hermione's blush was all the answer Susan needed. "You're the witch, so just keep to your ideals and set the pace you're comfortable with."

"He's the wizard, and if he truly loves you, he should respect you and be patient," Daphne finished. "No matter how long you want to wait."

"I don't think he meant to rush me," Hermione jumped in, trying to defend her boyfriend. "It's just… well, I think he got caught up in the moment. And I want my first time to be special; something romantic. Not just a quick shag."

"I wish I had done that," Daphne said. "Even though I lost my hymen when I was a little girl when I fell down some stairs, the first time I had sex hurt like hell. I didn't enjoy myself at all. If I had waited to do it with someone I loved, then at least it would've meant more than just a stabbing, burning pain."

"I know what you mean," Susan added. "My first time was with Jim Tybolt, in the broom cupboard on the third floor back at Hogwarts. Jim was behind me just pounding away. It hurt so much I cried."

"I find it ironic that Miss. Bones here is talking about how painful her first experience with sex was," Daphne began and reached up, gently brushing a strand of Susan's hair behind her ear. Hermione was struck by the apparent intimacy of the action. But Susan took it in stride, as if it was something that Daphne often did. "This is odd, especially since I know for a fact that she particularly likes getting it up her bum."

"What?" Hermione asked disbelievingly, causing Susan to blush.

"Susan likes to be buggered," Daphne confirmed. "From time to time, she likes a good shagging up her rump."

"Oh my," Hermione muttered. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Yeah," admitted Susan. "But in a good way."

Hermione didn't believe having something pushed up your bum could be pleasurable in any fashion.

"No, it doesn't _'hurt in a good way'_," Daphne argued Susan's conclusion. "It hurts like hell. Last year my boyfriend begged me to give it a try. And in a fit of momentary stupidity, I agreed. He got halfway in my bottom and I was screaming bloody murder. I stopped him right there. I had problems sitting the rest of the week it hurt so much."

All three witches laughed at Daphne's story. It warmed Hermione's heart to be so open with these two. It felt natural and was truly comforting even if the topic was a tad obscene.

**x**

**x**

His hunger for screams had been satisfied for a while. The girl he watched being violated in the forest fed his desire for many days. But like before, the memory became less potent. Draco knew that he would have difficultly pleasuring Pansy before long. So he decided to go out on another Hunt before his performance became an issue.

Late one night, he Apparated to the park once more and was displeased to see that no one was there. Draco walked in the shadows surrounding the park for sometime until he found what he needed. It was a Muggle family on the side of the nearby road. The father was working on the contraption that Muggles use to travel around, Draco believed it was the device he heard the Mudbloods at Hogwarts call a _'halto'._ The mother was talking to their two young children sitting in the back seat of the contraption. The boy looked to be about fourteen. The girl was at least sixteen, a bit older than Draco's earlier conquests, but he believed he could still enjoy her pain. The parents quickly fell to a pair of Killing Curses. Draco silenced the children's screams by putting them both under the Imperius.

He led the two bewitched children to a spot near the place in the forest where he had enjoyed himself before. Once again, Draco transfigured a number of twigs into a large circle of oaks in a makeshift wall and put up Silencing Charms. He then created a slab and tied the girl to it exactly like he had done with the other Muggle girl. He figured the props and situation worked so well previously, that a repeat was sure to succeed.

After canceling the Imperius on the girl Draco forced the boy to rape his sister. The novice Death Eater was disappointed to see that the girl wasn't a virgin. Despite his disappointment, Draco was satisfied with the girl's screams. Once again, he ejaculated at the same time as the boy.

The brother and sister had their throats sliced open within seconds of each other. After cleaning up a bit and changing the location back to the way he had found it, Draco returned to the castle recharged and invigorated.

The next day, when the Muggle police found the bodies in the park, they realized that they were wrong about their previous conclusion the bodies they had found a few days before were a murder/suicide. They now knew they had a serial killer on their hands.

**x**

**x**

Ron was exhausted and furious. The day's training had left him drained; the instructors had the recruits run up and down hills while firing off Stunners at random targets all day long. He was furious because his fellow recruits were capping off the day by discussing their sexual exploits just a few feet away from him. Some were bragging that their witches couldn't get enough of them and were constantly fooling around. One bloke claimed that he bagged two witches at the same time shortly before he went off to training. Even that dolt MacGoverns, all pasty and fat, bragged how his witch had finally gone down on him the night before he left. But Ron couldn't join in on this conversation because his girlfriend would rather slap him across the face than touch his willy.

Instead of being able to boast to his fellows how much of a wild-witch Hermione was in bed, Ron had to settle reading the post he got from his sister earlier that day while trying to ignore the different tales of sexual escapades being bandied about.

_"Dear Ron,_

_I just talked with Hermione and found out what her problem is. She says she's afraid._

_She told me that she's heard that it hurts a witch's first time (it does__** — **__don't ask how I know this, you'd just get upset). But it doesn't hurt that much). I think she is being silly and overly anxious. _

_I hate to say this, but you'll have to be patient. I'll work on her while you're away; you know, ease her nerves a bit. Hopefully, by the time you get back, she'll suck you off at least."_

Ron was a little taken back at first that his sister had taken the time to draw little hearts around the phrase _"suck you off."_ He realized then that oral sex must not be such a big thing for most witches. Not if his kid sister did it on a second date and then drew hearts around the words describing the act. It would seem Hermione was just being overanxious like Ginny said. Hopefully his sister was right; Ron wanted to have Hermione place her lips around his cock.

Pushing the pleasing image of Hermione's head in his lap, Ron continued to read Ginny's letter.

_"But you need to write her a letter telling her how sorry you are that you stepped over the line. You and I both know you did no such thing, but Hermione thinks you did and you need to please her (you please her, she pleases you; see how it works?). Just tell her that you were nervous about going off to camp and you lost your head. She'll eat it up (and then eat you up)."_

Again, Ginny drew hearts around the words _"eat you up."_ Ron read the end of the letter.

_"So just be patient, she'll come to love the 'Ron-Rod'._

_Love,_

_Ginny."_

Ron pulled out a spare bit of parchment and wrote a letter to Hermione, heeding his sister's sound advice.

**x**

**x**

Harry was having the same dream again. He knew it was a dream right at the start this time because he had not blacked out like he had the past two occurrences. No, this time, he had fallen asleep after Bellatrix had finished cutting his scars open again and left him alone.

In the dream this time, Hagrid and Kingsley came to save Harry. But when Bellatrix showed up, Harry wasn't just content with cutting her. He wanted to show her that he wasn't full of "righteous anger" anymore. That he could perform the Cruciatus properly.

_"CRUCIO!"_ Harry screamed, focusing on his rage, hatred, and anger. He let it burn inside him and used it to fuel the dreaded curse. The bitch fell to the floor and screamed in agony. He watched her writhe on the ground in front of him. Her head snapped back and she vomited, screaming at the same time. Her warm bile flooded the floor and coated Harry's feet. A streak of white appeared in her jet-black hair. Harry watched with amusement as her heart exploded in her chest.

The thing inside of Harry seemed to leap for joy at Bellatrix's pain. He reveled in the sensation; it made his body warm, and caused his manhood to rise up.

After Bellatrix died in his dream, Kingsley turned the table into a Portkey and the three were transported to number twelve once more. When he arrived there, both Ginny and Hermione tried to hug him like they had done before. But this time, Harry made them stop. He finally listened to that thing inside him; the thing that wanted so much more from both Ginny and Hermione. He realized that he was a man, and a man has needs, even if it was just a dream. He placed his hand on top of Ginny's head and gently forced her to her knees. His erect penis, which was now riddled with bumps and welts due to the rune stones Bellatrix had placed under his skin, bobbed in front of Ginny's face.

"Do it," Harry commanded. The red-head took his rod in her mouth willingly. Her tongue and lips traced the rock hard bulges on his shaft. While Ginny worked his organ, Harry grabbed the back of Hermione's head and crushed his lips to hers. Hermione opened her mouth and moaned into Harry as Ginny moaned on his organ. Harry paused in his kiss and looked down at Ginny. He couldn't see her face, which didn't bother him. But for some odd reason, Ginny felt dirty and impure to Harry. He therefore thought it suited her to be on her knees in front of him. But Harry didn't care about the odd feeling concerning Ginny, she was sucking him off and that was all that mattered. He deserved this after all he went through. This was a dream and these two were his to do with how he pleased.

Harry came all over Ginny's face with a grunt. Hermione bent down and licked the sticky residue off of her nose, lips, and chin. The odd sensation in Harry that reveled in Bellatrix's death seemed to feed off of the witches and wanted more.

Then Ron made his appearance and offered to play a game of chess once again. As Ron set up the board, Harry found himself on the table with Hermione at his side. She placed her hands on his bare thigh, close to his manhood, as Ginny ordered Ron to attack his own castle.

"Fucking do it," Ginny shouted at her brother. "Be a man! Take out your own castle!"

Harry was amazed that he was still rock hard. Hermione smiled sweetly at him and he decided to put her to work. The raven haired wizard reached out and took her hands. He then guided Hermione's hands so that they were wrapped around his organ. He didn't even need to tell her what to do; Hermione began to pump away, never looking away from Harry's eyes.

"I really did miss you," Hermione admitted.

"I know," Harry replied.

Ginny pushed her brother to the side and grabbed his knight and used it to crush Ron's castle. The black figurine was ground into dust as the red-haired witch drove the knight onto it.

"I tried to find you," Hermione added as she continued to rub and caress Harry's member. Her fingers traced his veins and the foreign objects embedded under his skin.

"There are better things you can do with your mouth than talking," Harry said. Judging by his tone, it was more of a command than a suggestion.

Hermione smiled happily and bent over Harry, taking him in her mouth. She bobbed up and down and Harry groaned pleasurably.

"Ginny, watch," Harry ordered and the red-head turned and looked at Hermione going down on him. Ginny's face became marred by jealousy and anger. Her anger turned Harry on even more. A few moments later, Harry came for a second time.

He woke up alone in his cell, panting. He was somewhat bothered by his actions in the dream. Not so much with the concept of torturing Bellatrix to death; he was extremely keen to do that in real life. But rather, by his actions with Hermione and Ginny; the way he made them do those things to him concerned the wizard. But what was even more troubling to him, he found that he liked the idea of making Hermione and Ginny do that to him. It felt… _empowering_.

**x**

**x**

As she rode her lover, Pansy became concerned. Draco was losing his erection again, even though he had just begun making love to her a few moments before. She wondered if she was no longer physically pleasing to him. But that couldn't be true; just the previous night, he had made wild passionate love to her until they had both passed out.

This had happened several times before as well. He was like an insatiable animal, but then, after a few days, he couldn't even perform. Then it dawned upon her; he was like an animal right after their attack on that Muggle house, and then after the two times he went Muggle Hunting on his own. Was it the thrill of the hunt that turned him on?

Draco growled like a petulant child and lost his erection. With a sad smile, Pansy patted him on his chest comfortingly.

"I have to go out," Draco said. Pansy noted that he couldn't even look her in the eyes. She dismounted her lover and he got up. She watched him dress.

"I'm sorry, but I have to leave," Draco repeated with his back turned toward his lover.

"Can I come with you?" Pansy asked hopefully. She wanted to know what turned him on, and if she could reproduce it in hope of pleasing him more.

"No," he snapped. It was harsher than he had intended, but being impotent made him upset. Draco strode out of his room, leaving his lover alone.

**x**

**x**

Three more bodies, two thirteen year old girls and one fourteen year old boy, were discovered in the woods the next day. DNA results showed that the boy sexually assaulted both of the girls. However, seminal fluid from an unknown person was found a few feet away from the bodies. Police Inspectors began to theorize that the murderer forced the boy to violate the girls as he masturbated nearby.

Criminal profilers hypothesized that the suspect could not bring himself to rape the victims himself due to some form of compulsion, perhaps caused by a deep rooted psychological issue dealing with his mother. The suspect used the male victims to rape the females by proxy perhaps so the suspect could remain pure and clean in some deluded fashion.

**x**

**x**

Lord Voldemort couldn't have been happier. Not only had Ollivander completed the amulets, but Yaxley informed the Dark Lord that their _"tall friends"_ were in position and waiting. In a day or two, he could launch the attack and the Ministry and all who opposed him would be crippled.

Added to his good mood, Voldemort had just gotten a post from his spy.

_"My Lord,_

_I bring you good news; I have begun to distract Granger away from Potter. I am taking it slow as to not show my hand. But if all goes as planned, the Mudblood will have better things to worry about than the worthless half-blood."_

It made Voldemort happy. Soon, Granger would be effectively out of the picture. The spy's note went on into a more personal aspect that pleased Voldemort even further.

_"My Lord, I know it is inappropriate to speak of such things, but as you already know, I was forever changed the first time you came into my life. You opened my eyes to the truth and made me the happiest I had ever been. But then that filthy half-blood tore you away from me._

_I was lost. I was nothing without you. I needed you to be by me. But that child ruined everything!_

_I had to pretend to be something I wasn't. And it killed me inside._

_But then I heard that you had returned. I was overjoyed; after years of anguish, you came back to me. When I first saw you after your resurrection, you had changed so much. But I could still see your eyes. Those eyes were the same that spoke sweet truths to me so long ago._

_I cannot wait for the day when I can stand proudly at your side._

_Until then, I live to serve you, my Master."_

In the long run, this spy had the potential to be more useful than any of his Death Eaters. Yes, many of his Death Eaters, like Bellatrix, loved the ideals that Voldemort spouted. But this spy loved him, with all of their heart and soul! Of course Voldemort didn't love the spy; the notion of such a relationship was preposterous to him. But that didn't mean that Voldemort could use his spy's affection to his advantage.

**x**

**x**

Johan Blaor watched as the three witches took the lift from the Ministry lobby up to Muggle London for lunch. He had seen them do this several times over the last week and knew that they liked to frequent a Muggle restaurant. The Granger girl was Muggle-born, so Johan couldn't really blame her for such activities. But the other two, Greengrass and Bones, came from proper families and should've realized that they were lowering themselves by doing such things.

Too many magical folk liked to venture out and mingle with the Muggles for fun. If they knew Muggles as Johan did, they would know that such things were unacceptable. He had spent seven years living in the Muggle world and constantly dealt with Muggles during that time. And, because of this, he knew what they were truly like.

After Johan had successfully apprenticed with a potion master in Germany, he had decided to _"broaden"_ his knowledge and attend a Muggle University. He even got a Doctorate in one of the difficult branches of their so-called science; Human Biology with an emphasis on genetics. After seven years living with Muggles and studying their ways, Johan knew beyond a doubt witches and wizards were superior to Muggles. It was a fact that was plainly evident to anybody who bothered to look.

In every aspect of life, magical folk were superior to Muggles. Take travel for instance; for magical folk, it was effortless to move great distances. They had Apparation, Floo, and Portkey. But for Muggles it was a different story; they had to climb into autos or aero-planes which were inherently dangerous and spat out fumes that poisoned the air.

Even everyday tasks for Muggles were difficult. If a Muggle wanted to make a finely crafted wooden chair, it would take them years of study and practice, and when they set out to make the chair, it would take them days if not weeks to do it properly. But for a witch or wizard, all it took was a few classes and a flick of their wand.

Johan wasn't a Death Eater or the like. He didn't want to hunt down Muggles and kill them. But he didn't feel the need to hide from them either; like a bunch of cockroaches scurrying away from the light. It was silly to hide from Muggles. Magical folk were the Muggles' betters, and it was high time that Muggles realized that. He believed that he had the means to do so. It was ironic the potion he had theorized that could reach these ends used the Muggle science he learned at University as a basis.

**x**

**x**

Hermione, Daphne, and Susan were having lunch again; it had become a tradition between the three new friends. Sometimes they would talk about work, or the news, but most of the time they ended up talking about their social lives. Of course, when the latter subject came up, Susan was the only one of the three to offer anything new because she was the only one actively dating.

"Carl bought me the most wonderful bouquet last night," Susan announced happily. Carl was a wizard who worked in the Goblin Liaison office and they had been seeing each other for a little over two months. "And I just had to thank him for such a beautiful present," Susan added knowingly.

Hermione didn't have to ask how Susan "thanked" Carl because the red-head proceeded to go into great detail about it. Susan started to show her appreciation by taking Carl in her mouth, then in her womanhood, and finally finished her_ "thanks" _by taking him in her bum. Even though Susan heralded the joys of anal sex, Hermione had no desire to ever try it out herself.

"I'll never know why you liked that particular activity," commented Hermione as she munched on her lunch.

"What; buggering?" Susan asked with a smile. "It's not an everyday thing; I only do it on special occasions."

"You mean like when your boyfriend buys you flowers?" Daphne asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm.

"Well, they were quite beautiful, as I said," Susan playfully countered.

The three witches shared a laugh at the exchange, although Daphne's laugh wasn't as heartfelt as Susan and Hermione's. Whenever Susan would talk about her love life, Hermione noticed that Daphne would always get a slightly sad look in her eyes. It didn't take Hermione long to realize Daphne wasn't jealous of Susan's exploits. She was saddened by the fact that she wasn't the one making Susan happy.

It wasn't that Daphne was strictly gay, per se. Hermione had seen her flirt with Muggle men who passed them during lunch and she knew for a fact Daphne fancied men; she had just dumped her boyfriend of four months because he was too needy and demanded all her free time. It was just she also happened to be in love with Susan.

"So what's new in your life?" Daphne asked Hermione.

"I received another post from Ron," Hermione replied. It was the second letter her boyfriend had sent since leaving for his training.

"Was it like the last one?" Susan asked.

"Yes, he apologized again for his actions," Hermione stated. "I think it's rather sweet."

"That's good," Daphne offered. "But make him grovel before you touch him. It's always nice to make a bloke sweat a bit."

The witches laughed at their shared mental image of Ron on his knees begging for a little bit of affection.

"I still want to take it slow," admitted Hermione.

"That's fine," Daphne agreed.

"Might I suggest something?" Susan inquired. "It will kind of ease you into being intimate with him."

"I will not take him in my bum," Hermione said, scandalized.

"No, that's advanced stuff," Susan playfully retorted. "I mean give him a hand-job or go down on him."

Hermione blushed at Susan's suggestion. The brunette asked softly "How do I do it?"

"They're both dead simple, and the bloke always likes it," Daphne added.

"You can start out simple with a hand-job, just stroke and pump," Susan explained with a small gesture of her hand as if she was polishing a broomstick. "When you first give him head, start out by licking and sucking. Then, once you're comfortable, you can take him in your mouth."

"Yeah, but I'd suggest you spit it out your first time," Daphne stated. "It's kind of an unusual taste."

The two friends spent the next several minutes instructing Hermione about different techniques.

"I know I don't have a place saying this, Hermione," Susan said with a serious tone, "but I can't see you and Ron together."

"Yeah, you two don't have much in common," Daphne added.

"You just don't know him like I do," Hermione defended.

"Of course _I_ don't," Daphne said. "I wasn't allowed to speak to anyone outside Slytherin; Malfoy and Parkinson would've taken it out on my hide. But even from afar, I only saw you two fight."

"Like I said, you don't know him as well as I do." Hermione wasn't upset with her friends' comments. In fact she expected it because she and Ron did argue quite a bit.

"To be honest, I always thought you and Harry would work well together," Susan said hesitantly. "You two were always so close. Physically close that is."

"What?" Hermione asked, a little taken back at Susan's comment.

"Whenever you stood or sat next to Harry, you were always just a few inches away from him if not touching him," Daphne explained.

"And you seemed to be always whispering in his ear," added Susan.

"That just means I was always comfortable around him," Hermione said.

"That's what we're saying," said Daphne.

"Hell, I always thought you two were an item," Susan stated. "That's why I never hit on him; I thought he was taken."

"Wait, you found Harry attractive?" Hermione asked.

"A lot of us did," Daphne stated. "That roguish mop of black hair..."

"His smile was very nice," Susan added.

"I was so disappointed whenever he wasn't wearing his school robes he wore those ugly baggy trousers," Daphne said. "I so wanted to get a good look at his bum and I couldn't see it through those damn baggy trousers."

"And his eyes," Susan said with a smile and faraway look. "Wow!"

"I never was able to get that close of a look at him. Every time I tried, Parkinson would stick her wand in my face and call me a blood traitor," Daphne said. "What color were they?"

"Green," Susan answered.

"Not just green," Hermione sounded. "They were bright and brilliant. With flecks of darker jade scattered throughout." She recalled all the times she looked deep into Harry's eyes as she continued. "And it's not just their color; Harry has very soulful eyes. You could tell how happy or sad he was just by looking into his eyes."

"Really," Susan said with a coy smile. Daphne had a matching grin. The red haired witch asked; "What color are Ron's eyes?"

"Blue," Hermione replied automatically. She paused as she tried to think of a more descriptive word than blue. After a bit, she added; "Blue like a robin's egg."

"Just_ 'like a robin's egg'_?" Daphne asked. "Not _'brilliant'_ with _'flecks of darker jade' _or_ 'soulful' _like Harry's were?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked, a little taken back by the question.

"Oh, just that you had to struggle to come up with a way to describe your boyfriend's eyes," Susan replied. "But when it came to talking about Harry's, you go all poetic."

"So?" Hermione asked.

"Well, it seems you're more fixated on Harry than Ron," Daphne pointed out.

Hermione was about to defend her actions when she thought of Harry and his eyes. She imagined wherever he was right then, his eyes must show so much pain, so much longing for help. She thought of how she had not yet been able to help her best friend. Her eyes burned as tears began to well up.

"We're sorry," Susan offered worriedly. She took Hermione's hand in hers. "We shouldn't have brought up Harry. We're sorry."

"We should've realized talking about Harry is a sore subject," Daphne said.

"I know what it's like to lose someone to You Know Who," Susan offered comfortingly. "I still miss my Aunt."

Hermione's heart sank. Her friends obviously thought that she was upset over their conversation about Harry because they thought she was still mourning for him.

"He's not dead," Hermione stated.

"What do you mean?"

Hermione explained why she knew Harry wasn't dead; since he was the rallying point of hope, Voldemort would proudly display Harry's body. Not just dump his clothes on a street corner.

"That's why I didn't go back to school and got a job here instead," Hermione concluded. "I'm using my free time to look through reports of Death Eater attacks. I'm trying to see if I can find a clue to help locate Harry."

"Why didn't you tell us before?" Daphne asked.

"I** — **well, I didn't want to trouble you," replied the brunette.

"Hermione, you're our friend. And friends help each other," Susan stated.

"Tonight, after work, let's meet in the records department and see what we can dig up together," Daphne offered.

**x**

**x**

Before supper, Draco surprised Pansy with a wild shag. Her cries of ecstasy echoed off the walls as she climaxed.

Afterwards, as they lay next to each other in the afterglow, Draco slowly drifted off to sleep. Pansy ran her fingers through his pale blond hair as she wondered what he did on the solo hunts he went on. Was it the thrill of causing pain that turned him on? If it was, she was willing to do certain things to please him; a slight whipping or perhaps a paddling to fulfill his desires.

She put her mind to follow Draco on one of his future hunts, without his knowledge of course since he had forbidden it. She needed to find out what turned him on so she could properly please him.

A short while later, a knock on the door woke Draco up and drew Pansy from her thoughts.

"The Dark Lord has an announcement for all of his followers," a voice called out through the door. "Be in the entrance hall in fifteen minutes."

**x**

**x**

Harry lay motionlessly on his table in the dark. Bellatrix had not come in yet which was odd. Even though Harry had lost track of time, it always seemed like Bellatrix and the Death Eater with the book were never gone for very long. However it felt like hours since she had last dragged that cursed blade though his skin.

This reprieve from pain and torture made Harry worry. Was the reason for her long absence a precursor for whatever it was that they were preparing him for?

**x**

**x**

Hundreds of Death Eaters were crammed in the entrance hall of Voldemort's stronghold. They had no idea what their Master was going to announce and therefore were buzzing with excitement.

All the chatter stopped as the Dark Lord appeared at the top of the stairs.

"My friends, I have wonderful news," Voldemort called out. His voice echoed off the stone walls. "Tomorrow, we shall bring the Ministry to its knees!"

Thunderous applause rattled the rafters. Voldemort let his followers cheer for a few moments more before continuing.

"We shall launch a full strike against the Ministry of Magic itself," he heralded. "We shall use our Portkeys to arrive directly in the lobby of the Ministry as well as within the Department of Mysteries.

"I'm telling you our plans in advance so you can properly prepare yourselves," Voldemort added. "Even though I know we will be victorious, I must warn you many of you will die in your service to our struggle. But your deaths will not be in vain! No, this attack will bring about a pure world, free of the Muggle filth!"

More applause and cheers boomed through the entrance hall.

"I give you tonight as a present," Voldemort concluded. "Go out and celebrate our assured victory, for many of you may not get the chance afterward!"

Severus Snape, who was standing near the stairs, was stunned. The Dark Lord had just given his permission to the Death Eaters to go and get drunk. That was a horrible mistake. Severus knew his fellow Death Eaters; many of them couldn't be trusted with even the simplest of secrets. The Dark Lord had just told these same Death Eaters about a plan to attack the Ministry. These fools will go to public places and after a few pints, will spill the Dark Lord's plans. Then it dawned on Severus, this must be part of his Master's plan. The Dark Lord wanted to warn the Ministry as to draw attention away from the real target. But what that target was, the potion master had no idea.

"Severus, a word if you will," the Dark Lord called out from the top of the stairs. Severus obediently climbed the stairs and knelt in front of his Master. Voldemort said "I'm afraid that you will not be able to leave the castle like your fellow Death Eaters."

"Yes, my Lord."

"There will be many casualties tomorrow," Voldemort explained. "And I need for you to brew up as many Blood Restorative potions as you can to help our fallen brethren."

"I shall go to my lab and start working on them right away, Master," Severus said and bowed. "I shall be ready tomorrow to fight by your side, sire."

"No, Severus, I fear there will be a great many casualties," the Dark Lord said. "I will need you to continue to brew the necessary potions while we attack the Ministry."

Snape hesitated. For a brief moment he considered asking his Master to reconsider. Snape was a masterful duelist and he knew he'd be helpful to the Dark Lord during the Battle. However, it was not prudent to contradict or even question the Dark Lord's orders.

"I live to serve, my Lord," Snape bowed once again and headed to his lab.

**x**

**x**

Later that night, the M. L. E. Fire-Call Center was bombarded with calls. Ginny and her fellow coworkers were inundated with fire-call after fire-call. All of them warned of suspected Death Eaters threatening to attack the Ministry sometime the next day.

"I heard 'em meself," Tom, the barkeep of the Leaky Cauldron warned. "They were all drunk as lords and said they was gonna Portkey into the lobby…"

"…they said something about arriving in the Department of Mysteries," a patron of the Hog's Head reported in another call.

Fifteen minutes later, Rufus Scrimgeour was awakened and told about the impending attack. He called an emergency meeting less than a minute after being warned.

**x**

**x**

Deep within Voldemort's castle, Harry was dreaming once again. At least, he told himself he was dreaming. The dream was different from the last few he had experienced. And it was far more vivid than any he had before.

In the dream, Harry stood in the middle of what felt like a very large room. He couldn't see more than five feet in any direction, everything beyond was swallowed up in inky blackness. But Harry somehow knew that the room went on and on, seemingly forever.

An intricate design was carved into the stone at Harry's feet. He was standing in the middle of a pentagram which was surrounded by hundreds of runes. Something in the dream told Harry that he'd be unable to move from the pentagram until he finished his task. Even though he had no idea what that task could be.

But Harry had a feeling the alien desire that had been present in his last few dreams knew what the task was. So, instead of just listening to that strange, dark desire inside of him, Harry decided to let it take control.

He felt it well up inside of him. It spread from his loins, down his legs, up his chest, through his arms, and into his head. The moment after he unleashed the desire, Harry heard voices buzzing in the darkness, hundreds of them. Although he couldn't make out what they were saying, he knew what they meant. They all wanted Harry. Some wanted him because they were concerned for his well being; the tone of these voices was full of compassion. Others wanted Harry to suffer and die; these voices were full of hatred and fear. And yet others wanted him simply because of the thing that was between his legs; those voices bore unmasked lust.

Harry might have been concerned about what the voices wanted before, but now that he had let the alien desire take over, all he cared about is what _he_ wanted. What he wanted was a woman. It didn't matter who; any woman would suffice. Thankfully, what he wanted was the very thing that would lead to him completing his task of getting out of the pentagram.

He raised his hand, and with a gesture, commanded one of the voices to come forward. In a few seconds, a woman came out of the blackness and stood just outside the pentagram. She didn't look like just one woman that Harry had ever met before. Rather, she seemed to be a magical representation of all the women he had ever met. Her features would shift from one moment to the next seemingly at random. One second, she had Ginny's eyes and Bellatrix's mouth, the next, Cho Chang's eyes and Hermione's lips. Her hair would change style, length, and color like paint floating in water. But it didn't concern Harry whom the woman looked like; all that mattered was that she was a woman.

"Strip," Harry ordered. His voice took on an animalistic tone.

The woman obeyed and slowly removed her robe and clothing. Harry examined her body as she stood in front of him, awaiting his next command. Much like her face, the woman's body changed shape from one second to the next. One moment, she was athletic, lean muscles and small breasts. Then her body would grow soft and buxom with round curves and heavy breasts. Her form would flow through every body type Harry had ever imagined. Every possible aspect of womanhood stood unashamedly in front of Harry in all of her glory.

The wizard felt the desire in him stir; it was like a caged animal pacing back and forth. It was a beast that needed to feed. And oddly, Harry had every intention of letting the beast feast on the woman before him.

"Come here," Harry commanded. "And feed me."

The woman stepped into the pentagram. The instant her bare foot touched down inside the carving, she stopped cycling through random body types and combination of features. Her form was still changing, but now it seemed like when she would change, her entire face and body would alter to match the appearance of a specific woman that the young wizard had known. As she walked up to Harry, she changed from Hermione, to Ginny, to Cho.

"Kneel," Harry growled, and the woman followed his command. Once she was on her knees and in position in front of Harry, she changed into the bitch Bellatrix. Harry held his organ in front of her face and demanded; "Do you think I'm man enough now?"

Bellatrix nodded her head and had a touch of delicious fear in her eyes.

"Take it, bitch," ordered Harry roughly. Bellatrix opened her jaw wide and took his organ into her mouth. She worked it to its full erect state, bobbing, suckling and licking his shaft. She wrapped her hand around his shaft and sucked on his crown. Shivers of delight shot up Harry's spine. He could feel the heat from her mouth. It spread through his organ and up his belly. Her tongue massaged the underside of his rod as she bobbed making Harry swell.

Suddenly, Bellatrix changed into Ginny. Her bright brown eyes looked up at Harry as she worked the organ with her hands and mouth.

"Does my manhood impress or frighten you?" Harry asked; his voice softer than it was with Bellatrix.

"Impress," Ginny answered quickly before placing his rod back into her mouth. But the thing that was feasting on this action told Harry she was lying. She was neither impressed nor frightened; she was sickened. The thing told Harry that Ginny wanted someone else. But who she wanted didn't really matter to Harry at that moment, he was in her and that was all that truly mattered. This was Harry's dream, and his sole focus was feeding the dark thing inside him and feeling pleasure. It was all about him.

Then Ginny's form was replaced by Hermione. The brunette worked his member with a passion.

"Does it bother you that I'm not Ron?" Harry asked. Out of all the girls so far, Hermione's opinion mattered the most to the young wizard. He thought that it would've been Ginny's, but it didn't since the thing inside him had caught her in a lie. And he knew Hermione would always speak the truth, even if that truth was painful.

"Ron's not a man," Hermione replied in between licking the underside of his penis. "He always has been and always will be nothing more than a boy. You are a man."

Harry didn't need the thing inside of him to tell him that Hermione wasn't referring to the size of his organ when she called him a man. In all honesty, Ron had always been a needy little child inside and was easily swayed.

**x**

**x**

The past few nights, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan tore through the reports on Death Eater activity. It was much easier going though the reports with two people helping her than just by herself. Of course, what the three witches found just made them upset; all they found out was the Death Eater attacks seemed completely random. There was no discernable pattern. Even with this setback, Hermione and her new friends were still determined to find Harry.

Ginny, who was busy working her shift at the call center, had stopped by the records room to hand Hermione a stack of recent reports on Death Eater activity from the previous night. The witch apologized for not being able to help more explaining that her supervisor was a taskmaster. If she didn't return to the call center straight away, Ginny would have to find a new job.

While they searched through the records, the three witches would talk about themselves. Susan decided not to return to Hogwarts after her aunt was murdered. She believed that she could do more for the community by working for the Ministry than being stuck in Hogwarts. Daphne's reasons were a little more selfish. Ever since she had been sorted into Slytherin, she had difficulty fitting in with her fellow housemates. At first, she was honored to be placed in a house that valued ambition. That honor soon turned sour. Her fellow housemates didn't believe that ambition was the most important trait for a Slytherin to have. They held blood-purity above all else. And Daphne's housemates ridiculed her when they found out her maternal grandmother was Muggle-born. Pansy and Millicent would often pull cruel and humiliating pranks on Daphne simply because they didn't consider her pure. And the dark looks Draco and his goons gave Daphne always put her on edge. Because of the constant ridicule and fear, she didn't like going to Hogwarts. So when it was rumored that the school wouldn't reopen after Dumbledore's murder, Daphne got a job at the Ministry.

When it came for Hermione's turn to talk about her life, she would entertain Susan and Daphne with stories about her adventures with Harry. Whenever she got to the parts when Ron was part of the adventure, Hermione found herself embellishing a bit. To be honest, whenever Harry needed help, Ron was often in the background, while she tended to be at Harry's side. Except for twice, once in their second year and during the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Hermione usually was there for Harry. She was a little surprised at how much time she and her raven haired friend had spent together over the past few years, especially in hazardous situations.

But when she got to stories about their sixth year, Hermione was saddened. Harry had been right about Draco being a danger, but Hermione had been so focused on Ron. She had shunned and pushed Harry away, saying his fears were baseless and paranoid. She felt a pang of shame at not being there to help her best friend when he needed it. She vowed right there in front of Susan and Daphne never to let Harry down again.

Both Susan and Daphne were impressed with Hermione's stories. They knew that Harry was brave and just, but they had no idea how much he had been through. They were both sorry that they hadn't taken the time to get to know him better over the past few years. He sounded like he would've been a good friend.

The three witches ended up staying in the record department until well past three in the morning. Therefore, the next day, when Hermione walked into the lobby of the Ministry, she was still rubbing the sleep from her eyes. With a yawn, she opened her eyes and was stunned to see that the lobby was packed with people; more than she had ever seen in the Ministry before. Literally hundreds of witches and wizards were there. Some of the people she recognized as her fellow Ministry workers. But most of the others were wearing uniforms indicating M. L. E. personnel.

"What's going on?" Susan asked Hermione, as she walked up behind her.

"I don't know," answered Hermione. "I just got here myself."

A few moments later, Daphne appeared out of the crowd.

"Something's up," the black haired witch announced. "They called in everyone for an emergency. And I do mean everyone. Every Hit-Wizard and Auror is here, active, off duty, retired; all of them. Any Ministry employee who was on holiday was called in. Most of the battalion that's been assigned to Hogwarts is here as well. They even called in all the recruits from the M. L. E. training Camp."

"That means Ron's here," Hermione said while scanning the crowd, trying to find her boyfriend.

"Probably," Daphne said.

"What's going on?" Susan asked. "Why is everyone here?"

"I'm not sure, but it has to be something big," Hermione reasoned.

"ATTENTION EVERYONE!" a voice boomed across the lobby. All heads turned to see Minister Scrimgeour standing on the raised platform that once held the statues of the Magical Brethren.

"We have received warnings from multiple sources that He Who Must Not Be Named and his forces will launch an all out attack against the Ministry itself sometime today," Scrimgeour announced with his magically amplified voice. "We have called in everyone in preparation for the impending attack. It is believed the Death Eaters are hoping to catch us by surprise. With luck, they will not be expecting such a strong defense here.

"We will divide up into groups," the Minister continued. "Most of you will stay here in the lobby. We understand that is where the Death Eaters will come in force. Some of the more skilled, such as Aurors and Hit-Wizards, will be stationed in the Department of Mysteries.

"Even though the Dark Lord's forces have grown, we still outnumber them greatly. They do not stand a chance against us!" Scrimgeour concluded fearlessly.

**x**

**x**

Every Death Eater woke up early that morning, excited and anxious about their mission. Voldemort's inner circle of witches and wizards spent several hours dividing up the lower level Death Eaters into specific attack groups. The first group was made up of several dozen Death Eaters who specialized in Blasting Hexes. Almost all of the rest of the Death Eaters were formed into smaller groups, all that is except for Draco and Pansy. Bellatrix approached the two young Death Eaters and told them that they would be accompanying their Dark Lord. As they were divided up, every Death Eater was given medallions on a thin chain and told to wait in the main entrance of the castle for their orders. Draco and Pansy joined Bellatrix, Wormtail, Macnair, Nelson, and Rutherford at the top of the stairs, while the rest waited below.

Once they arrived in the entrance, the Death Eaters gathered around a vast number of color coordinated ropes that lay on the ground. The first group, the group of Blasters, gathered around several lengths of purple ropes as instructed. All the other groups circled around dozens of ropes that were colored blue, green, white, brown, and red as they had been commanded. Draco and Pansy noted that the hunk of rope in front of them and the Death Eaters gathered at the top of the stairs was a gold color.

When all the Death Eaters had finished assembling around their ropes, which they all knew were Portkeys, it was a quarter of noon. No one talked; they just waited patiently for their Master to show. At exactly twelve o'clock, he finally arrived.

With obvious pride in his voice, Voldemort gave his followers their instructions.

"Soon, the Ministry shall pay for denying us our birthright! And then all who oppose us will tremble at our victory!" Voldemort heralded. All of the Death Eaters cheered.

"The first team will lead the attack," the Dark Lord stated, pointing to his minions that had gathered around the purple rope-Portkeys. "And it is the first team's duty to level everything around them. Cast as many Blasting Hexes as you can as fast as you can. Strike like lightning and leave nothing standing. When you arrive at your destination; do not hesitate. If you do, I will consider it an act of betrayal. And you know how I treat traitors."

The members of the first team shivered with fear at their Lord's threat. They knew that if they failed, they would beg for a quick death. Death was a far better punishment than what the Dark Lord did to traitors.

"Fifteen seconds after the first team attacks, our allies who are already in place and waiting will lead the main charge," Voldemort continued. "It is very important to keep your medallion around your neck at all times! The medallion will protect you for one group of our allies will attack and kill you if you are not wearing it.

"Then, after our associates have attacked, the rest of us will spring into battle," the Dark Lord added. "Once you arrive at our destination, sweep through the building. Go through every room, corridor and cupboard. Kill every wizard you find who isn't a fellow Death Eater, regardless of his age. Kill every wizard; man or boy! But you are not to harm any witches. Leave all the witches to the monsters and giants!"

A chill went up Draco's spine. Their allies were giants and monsters! Giants were vicious beings who lusted for battle and destruction. Draco knew to stay out of their way, because giants were impossible to control. Perhaps that was what the medallion was for. But he knew of no magical object that could deter a giant from killing. Draco concluded that maybe the medallion was for the monsters, whatever they were.

"Again, do not hesitate," Voldemort reiterated to his minions. "If you hesitate... even for one second... I will deal with you myself."

Voldemort paused and turned to face his inner circle.

"You know what to do," he said to his most trusted followers. He then turned his red eyes to Draco and Pansy. "You two will lead us to the virgins," the Dark Lord ordered.

Both Draco and Pansy were confused. Their Master had spoken to them briefly about this before, but how were they supposed to spot the virgins at the Ministry?

Voldemort pulled a two-way mirror out of his robes and spoke: "Yaxley."

A voice emanated from the mirror in Voldemort's hands saying; "Yes, Master."

"Be prepared," Voldemort said. "The attack is beginning now. Wait for the signal."

Voldemort turned to his followers gathered before him and shouted, "FIRST TEAM, GO! DESTROY EVERYTHING!"

The team of blasters reached down and touched the rope at their feet and disappeared. It was 12:14 in the afternoon.

**x**

**x**

The dream woman had worked her mouth on Harry's manhood for quite some time. She changed appearances to match almost every woman Harry had ever seen. The woman was some cinema star from a black and white picture he had seen on the telly at his relatives' home, the toad woman Umbridge, a primary school teacher he had years ago, Susan Bones, his Aunt Petunia, McGonagall, Pansy Parkinson, Moaning Myrtle, and even his own mother.

After what seemed like an eternity of being in the woman's mouth, the strange desire in Harry decided to move on. When the woman looked like Hermione again, Harry gently guided her to turn around so that her back was facing him. Once this was done, her appearance changed to Ginny again. Harry roughly shoved at her shoulders so that she fell and landed on her hands. Now that the woman was on all fours in front of Harry, it was time to complete the task necessary to leave the pentagram.

He placed his crown at the woman's flower. Even though he knew it was nothing more than a dream, Harry could've sworn that he could feel the heat coming from her petals as well as her wetness as he pushed in. He felt her labia part and slide around his spongy head. The woman arched her back and took on the appearance of some seventh year Slytherin witch Harry had seen during his first year. He continued to push into her and she changed into Mrs. Figg, his elderly Squib neighbor. When he pushed in far enough so that his pubic hair mingled with hers, the woman turned into Mrs. Weasley.

He remained buried in the woman, basking in the feeling of the heat and wetness wrapped around his organ. Her soft rump pressed into his hips as her sex quivered around him.

"More, give me more," she pleaded in Bellatrix's voice. Harry pulled out and slammed into her, eliciting a shriek of pain and pleasure from the woman. Bellatrix's hair transformed into his mother's full auburn main and Harry slid back and forth gently. A moan of delight escaped from Cho's lips as Harry continued to slowly pump.

He marveled at the sensation of his manhood sliding in and out of the woman. The way she hugged him and how her wetness coated and dripped from his shaft created a fire in his belly. Harry looked down and watched as his organ pushed into her; he found it fascinating how the bulges caused by the rune stones under his skin pushed and pulled on her wet, engorged labia.

The woman looked back and over her shoulder at Harry with Hermione's face and bit her lower lip. Harry squeezed Susan Bones' plump bottom as his heavy balls slapped against the back of her thighs. The woman muttered disjointedly in Luna's voice. Harry could feel the woman's vaginal walls tighten around his manhood.

Sweat trickled off of Ginny's back. Harry pulled at her red hair and forced her to look him in the eye.

"Do you like my cock in you?" he growled. The wizard reveled in the power he felt, from both the felling of the woman around him and the dark desires he was indulging. He let it swirl around in him.

"Yes," Ginny lied once again. He knew she desired someone besides him. In retaliation for her lie, Harry reached around her and pinched one of her nipples.

The woman transformed into Tonks' natural form. Harry caressed her breast while still holding her head back by her mousy brown hair. He wanted to see her face when she climaxed. Harry ran his tongue along Marietta Edgecombe's lips which suddenly turned into Hannah Abbott's mouth. The woman opened her mouth and allowed Harry entrance. He could taste himself, his musky odor, as well as the woman's own flavor on Penelope Clearwater's tongue.

She moaned into his mouth and Harry felt her muscles contract even more; rippling in waves around him. He pulled away from her mouth and looked deep into Hermione's eyes as her orgasm started to claim her. Her brown eyes shimmered with ecstasy and her hips bucked involuntarily against Harry. Hermione's eyes were replaced by the ice-blue eyes of Daphne Greengrass. She cried out and her body spasm uncontrollably. Her jet-black hair in Harry's fist turned the dark red of Susan's and she screamed in pure joy as her sex clamped around his organ.

Harry growled and unloaded himself into the woman. His organ jerked and twitched, spraying his hot seed deep into her in think spurts.

Then the pentagram erupted in flames. Fire shot up and consumed both Harry and the woman in a burning inferno.

He woke up on his slab, panting and sweating. He could feel the warm, sticky mess of his discharge splattered across his thighs and belly. Even though he was exhausted and weak, he felt as if he had accomplished a necessary task.

**x**

**x**

She had been in the crowded lobby for over four hours and still had not seen him yet. Hermione met three recruits that were in the same group as Ron. They were easy to find because of their uniforms, bright green robes with brilliant orange stripes down the sleeves. So Hermione knew that Ron had to be there. Hermione even ran into Ginny and asked if she had seen Ron. The red-head replied she hadn't but she said that she would look for him.

Hermione wanted to be by Ron when the attack came. It was a bitter feeling in her chest that Harry wasn't here with them. Out of the three school friends, Harry was the bravest and the most powerful when it came to defensive spells. That, and Hermione had never been in a fight without Harry at her side. She felt a bit lost without him being there.

"'Mione!" a familiar voice called out and Hermione forced back a comment about that childish nickname.

Hermione turned and smiled warmly at her boyfriend. He had gotten his red hair shaved close to his scalp. She thought with amusement that it gave him the look of a little boy.

"Hi, Ron," Hermione greeted him, the two sharing an awkward hug. "How are you doing?" she asked and rubbed her hand over his bristly hair affectionately.

"Good, you?"

"Okay," The two broke their hug and stood in front of each other without speaking for a bit.

He was incredibly nervous and it bothered him that neither of them was speaking, so he decided to break the silence. Speaking quietly, he asked; "Any luck with Harry?"

"Not really. Mostly dead ends so far," she replied. "How's your training?"

"Hard," Ron admitted. "But I've learned a lot. You'd like that bit. It was funny, the first day there they had to teach everyone how to cast the Shield Charm. I was the only one who could do it right."

"Oh good, you found each other," Ginny said after she appeared in front of them. "I found you first Hermione and then I found Ron. I was worried that you two wouldn't get to see each other there are so many people here."

"Yeah, it's good that the three of us are together," Ron stated while indicating himself , his girlfriend and sister. "Half of the _'Ministry Six'_, so to speak."

Hermione nodded her head in silent agreement. She looked around nervously searching for her two other friends, Susan and Daphne. Hermione found herself worrying about her new friends' safety. Would they be okay during the attack? Unconsciously, Hermione started to wring her hands as she grew more and more concerned about Daphne and Susan.

With a tilt of her head, Ginny caught Ron's attention and gestured to Hermione's hands and mouthed the words _"hold her hand"_. He wasn't sure how that would help Hermione, but Ron decided to follow his sister's suggestion.

"Oh, thanks," Hermione said nervously. It calmed her nerves slightly to have Ron showing his support. "I'm worried about the attack."

"Unfortunately, we have no idea when it'll happen," Ginny stated. "We only know it's supposed to happen sometime today, and it's only…" The red-haired witch paused and checked the time on a large clock hung on the wall which read fourteen minutes after twelve. "It's barely past noon. There's a lot of time left in the day."

**x**

**x**

"Thanks, you two," Hagrid said to Luna Lovegood and Neville Longbottom. The two students stayed behind to help Hagrid clean up the area around his hut after class, as the other students went to the castle for lunch. "But ya shouldn't bother."

As the half giant carried a crate full of flobberworms, Hagrid thought about how hard it must have been for Neville to come back to Hogwarts. He was one of only twelve seventh year students to return, and the only Gryffindor in his year. The seventh year student body was so small that Headmistress McGonagall decided to merge their classes with the sixth years'.

"Don't worry, Hagrid. We're glad to help out," Luna replied dreamily.

"Yeah, it's no bother," agreed Neville.

A soft booming noise drifted across the air. At first, the three of them ignored it because it was so quiet. But then, another boom, this one slightly louder than the first, sounded off in the distance.

"What was that?" Luna asked as third boom reached their ears.

"It's probably just the firs' years mucking up a potion in Slughorn's potions' lessons," Hagrid offered.

"But lessons ended for lunch a few minutes ago," Luna corrected. "There shouldn't be anyone in the potions lab."

"Besides, it sounds like it's coming from Hogsmeade," Neville added. The three looked in the direction of the village.

"Oh, no," Luna gasped when she saw several plumes of thick, black smoke rising from the direction of Hogsmeade.

"You two run to the castle an' get help," Hagrid commanded. "I'll go ter—"

Hagrid was unable to finish his statement because the ground beneath his feet trembled so violently that Luna fell to her knees.

"What's going on?" Neville asked. He staggered in place, trying to control his balance as the earth continued to shake.

Before anyone could even speculate, a number of trees a hundred feet north of Hagrid's cabin fell to the ground; as if they were nothing more than saplings that were uprooted and thrown out of the way. Suddenly, dozens and dozens of giants charged out of the forest. The huge man-like beasts charged straight for the castle.

"Oh God," Luna gasped as even more giants flowed out of the forest.

"Stay behind me, kids," Hagrid ordered. He didn't believe that he could actually stop the giants from harming Neville and Luna. There were at least fifty giants heading to the castle with still more pouring out of the forest. Even if they weren't more than twice the size of Hagrid, their sheer numbers would overpower him in seconds. Thankfully, the giants seemed not to have noticed him and the two students. Hagrid knew that there was no chance he'd reach the castle in time to warn them; the giants were moving too fast for him. Hagrid made a difficult decision; if he couldn't save the children in the school, at least he could save Neville and Luna.

Hagrid started to lead his two charges to the main gates. He reckoned that he and the kids could handle whatever was happening in Hogsmeade better than they could the giants. The three ran toward the gates, and after they had traversed nearly four dozen feet, they stopped dead in their tracks. Something that looked like a shiny black cloud billowed out of the forest sixty feet south of Hagrid's cabin. It only took the half-giant a second to recognize what the cloud was.

It was the Acromantulas, hundreds upon hundreds of them. They were coming straight at them like a tidal wave. Hagrid wasn't even able to swear before scores of giant spiders crashed on top of him. As several of the spiders punctured his flesh with their fangs, he tried valiantly to stop the Acromantulas from reaching his two students. Ignoring the burning pain as the venom coursed through his veins and thinking of his two young charges' safety, Hagrid swung his large fists franticly, crushing at least three of the smaller spiders. But it took only two seconds before both Neville and Luna were trampled under the mass of black shells and hairy legs. Hagrid couldn't even hear their screams of pain as a dozen spiders ripped them apart over the thunderous sounds of the giants and Acromantulas that continued their deadly charge toward the castle. A moment later, the half-giant saw out of the corner of his eye a number of Acromantulas leaving the group behind him. They had pieces of the two students he had been so desperately trying to protect hanging from their jaws. Neville's bloodied hand bobbed from one monster's maw while a second spider carried a large portion of the boy's leg. One Acromantula dropped Luna's severed head. Her dirty blonde hair fell back to reveal a pain filled expression; the last moment of her life cruelly etched on her face. Another Acromantula shot forward and seized the Ravenclaw's head before dashing back into the Forest with its prize.

Less than five seconds after the attack began, Hagrid's vision darkened and he began to sway. The Acromantulas continued to bite and tear at his skin even as he toppled to the ground.

The last thought Hagrid had before the venom reached his heart and stopped it, was that he was glad he at least took some of the giant spiders out when his enormous body crushed their shells as he fell.

**To be continued…**

**Author's Notes:**Yes, this story does have a slow buildup. And yes, a very slow buildup especially compared to some stories in the genre.

This is an intentional and deliberate decision on my part. I want to pose a direct contrast to a number of the Dark!Harry stories in the fandom where Harry changes at the drop of a hat from the easy going character from canon to someone who could kill without remorse. In real life, such radical and rapid changes can easily be considered a psychotic breakdown.

I wanted instead to show a slow change in beliefs and morality. A change where Harry, a forgiving and somewhat placid character, could grow to consider the notion of murdering a person not necessarily without reason, but without remorse.

Also, not only is Harry affected by these gradual changes, but so are a number of other characters in the story. Each one of these changes and character developments are necessary to the storyline.

Furthermore, to clarify – Harry will turn dark but he will not turn evil. He will not wantonly kill at random just because he feels the need. Nor will Harry turn into a rapist.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Five

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

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Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

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**Opening Note:** two chapters in two days. Enjoy.

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Paul Anderson-Holden was a ten year veteran of the M. L. E. and he took a great deal of pride in his new task. He and his division were currently assigned to Hogwarts castle and Hogsmeade. It was a great honor for Anderson-Holden to be entrusted with the safety of a generation of children.

At any given moment, day or night, ten M. L. E. officers were patrolling Hogsmeade while another twenty patrolled the grounds surrounding Hogwarts. If an emergency arose, an additional thirty off-duty M. L. E. officers could spring into action.

Thankfully, no such emergency had occurred. Already, they had successfully endured two Hogsmeade weekends. Their professionalism ensured that these hectic and crowded weekends went without incident.

Early this morning, the Ministry contacted Captain Farmer, the division head, and ordered him to select only two officers to guard both the village and castle. The order also demanded that he take the rest of the division to the Ministry of Magic immediately. The captain didn't say anything else, except to say that order came from the Minister for Magic himself.

Being one of the two officers left to defend Hogsmeade and the school, Paul wasn't overly concerned. If the Death Eaters were going to attack the school, they would've done it already, especially during one of the previous Hogsmeade weekends where they were at their most vulnerable. Besides, Scrimgeour's reasoning was right when he announced that Hogwarts would reopen; You Know Who didn't have a reason to attack Hogwarts anymore now that both Potter and Dumbledore were dead.

Unfortunately, Paul came to the realization that both he and Minister Scrimgeour were dead wrong the instant he saw the twelve Death Eaters suddenly appear in front of him. To make matters worse, another dozen popped up a hundred feet behind him and his partner in the midst of their routine patrol in Hogsmeade.

Paul looked at the Death Eaters in shock as the intruders surveyed their surroundings, as if they were surprised to find themselves in Hogsmeade. Unfortunately for Anderson-Holden, he wasn't the first to overcome his sense of shock and bewilderment. One of the Death Eaters pointed his wand at the patrolling officers, and all Paul was able to say before the Killing Curse hit him was_ "Bugger."_

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The first team of Death Eaters was surprised to see that their Portkeys had taken them to various spots in and around Hogsmeade. From what their Master had told them the night before, they had expected to have been transported into the Ministry of Magic. Even though they were surprised with their actual destination, the Death Eaters knew better than to hesitate. The Dark Lord was very specific about what he would do to those who wavered. With the fear of what their Master would do to them urging them on, every single Death Eater launched a bevy of Blasting Hexes in all directions.

The Three Broomsticks, which had been closed since Madame Rosmerta had been hospitalized, was hit with at least five Blasting Hexes and was the first building to fall. An instant later, a wizard by the name of Conrad Hastings ventured out of his house to see what had happened only to have his chest explode.

Within seconds, several plumes of choking black smoke caused by the destruction rose up into the air.

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The past few weeks had been very difficult for Yaxley and his four Death Eater companions. They had to secretly transport scores of giants across Britain without being spotted by either Magical Folk or Muggles. This was a near impossible task; giants were slow witted brutes with the attention span and intelligence of a flobberworm. To help ensure that they were not seen, Yaxley and his charges had to travel strictly at night as well as under a series of Disillusionment Charms. Added on top of the sheer difficulty of casting charms on nearly a hundred giants who had no intention of letting a wizard come near them with a wand, Yaxley had to distract the brutes from attacking every village or town they passed.

"No, no, no," Yaxley would often scold the giants that wandered off toward an unsuspecting Muggle village. "Little Snake-man will be very cross if you do that."

Yaxley was more than a little upset at referring to the Dark Lord as_ "Little Snake-man",_ but it was the title the stupid giants had given his Master when he had met with them months ago. The dim giants couldn't remember his proper title of Dark Lord.

When they had finally arrived in the Forbidden Forest, Yaxley had to wait several more days until his Master was ready. In that time the centaurs caused a bit of a problem. A small force of the half-breeds dared to attack them. Yaxley took delight in telling the giants to wipe out the entire centaur tribe. The battle took place deep in the Forest and the horse-men were destroyed within an hour.

When his Master contacted Yaxley and told him it was time, he was overjoyed. He waited patiently for the signal to let loose the giants. Yaxley hoped that the Dark Lord would reward him for a masterfully well done task. In a matter of moments, he saw the first plume of smoke rising from Hogsmeade, then the second and third. The moment he saw the fourth plume, Yaxley told his Master through the two-way mirror that he was initiating the attack. He then turned to the giants and cried out "CHARGE!" with the thoughts of a glorious reward in his head.

But Yaxley's reward would never come. The moment he gave the order, the giants rushed toward the castle, trampling everything in their paths. Plants, trees and animals were ground into paste under their feet. Unfortunately, Yaxley himself was caught up in the giants' frenzy and his cries of pain ended abruptly the moment one of the massive brute's foot crushed his skull into the earth.

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Even though term had started weeks ago, Minerva McGonagall was still not able to overcome her disappointment that a large number of students hadn't returned to Hogwarts. She couldn't blame them or their parents. She realized that it had to have been a difficult decision for the families that chose to send their children to the school. Not that those who didn't return weren't brave. It must've been an equally hard decision not to allow their children to return.

As she looked out over the one hundred and eighty-three students as they ate, Minerva's heart sank. The Great Hall looked so empty, it hurt her. Hopefully, You-Know-Who would be dealt with quickly and the school could return to its proper population next term.

Minerva was drawn out of her musings by a rumbling noise that was rapidly growing in intensity. At first, it was a mere sound somewhere outside the castle. But then grew until the plates shook and the goblets fell over. Minerva made to stand up and tell the students to remain calm when the wall next to the mostly deserted Slytherin table caved in. Stone and bricks collapsed, crushing ten of the students sitting at the table.

Everyone in the Great Hall, both students and instructors alike, stared in shock at the hole in the wall for a half second. Then panic seized nearly everyone as six giants lumbered though the opening.

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Voldemort waited for Yaxley to tell him that the giants had reached the castle. After he had not heard from his Death Eater for thirty seconds, assumed that Yaxley had either died or that the mirror had been destroyed. Voldemort turned to the Death Eaters assembled in the entrance hall and ordered, "Remember, do not harm any witch! Go now and kill every wizard; man or child!"

Once the Death Eaters disappeared, he spoke to his team of Macnair, Wormtail, Bellatrix, Nelson, Rutherford, Pansy, and Draco.

"Now it is our turn. Remember, I need virgins."

With that, Voldemort and his team touched the gold colored rope and disappeared.

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The Death Eaters that arrived in Hogwarts were just as surprised as the ones who Portkeyed to Hogsmeade. They, like their brethren, believed they would be transported into the Ministry building. However, they appeared in various parts of Hogwarts castle. Twenty arrived in each of the four Common Rooms, thirty arrived in the dungeons, and smaller teams appeared in numerous other locations throughout the castle.

Many of them quickly realized that their Master had told them that they were going to attack the Ministry building as a way to deceive the Ministry, so that Hogwarts would be left defenseless. They also knew that when their Master had told them to kill every wizard, he meant it. For a split second, they wondered if this was the right thing to do, killing children. They quickly convinced themselves that the families who supported the Dark Lord and held to the proper traditions of wizarding life did not send their children to Hogwarts this year. Instead, the school was full of blood-traitors, half-bloods, and Mudbloods. Therefore, they deserved to die, even if they were just children. This conscious thought as well as the fear of their Master's punishment drove the Death Eaters to do their mission with a burning passion.

Thomas Pine, a fourth year Hufflepuff, had decided to skip lunch and instead work on his Transfiguration paper, due at one o'clock. He was quite shocked to see the group of Death Eaters break down his door; so shocked that he didn't even cringe as they launched a Killing Curse right at his chest.

In the Dungeons, Argus Filch was about to head up the stairs to see what all the commotion was about when a number of Death Eaters turned the corner. The old caretaker wasn't even allowed a chance to gasp in surprise before he was murdered. The Death Eaters stepped over Filch's dead body like it was nothing more than trash as they continued to sweep the corridors.

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Back in the Great Hall Minerva tried her best to keep the children calm. But it was a losing battle. In a matter of seconds, at least five more giants came through the hole in the wall and the children ran for their lives. Some of the smaller children were knocked down and trampled by their fellow students. In the chaos, the children continued to pour out of the Great Hall and ran in every direction, desperately trying to find a safe hiding space.

Minerva was able to pull together six students behind her and was leading them out of the Great Hall. She was planning on taking them to her office, being one of the more secure locations in the castle. She was also hoping that some of the other children would come to their senses and follow her. But her hopes were shattered the moment after she left the Great Hall.

With a popping sound, the most feared Dark Lord of their time along with several of his followers appeared before the Headmistress.

"Ah, Minerva, so good to see you," Voldemort mocked in his cold voice.

Minerva knew it was pointless to fight him, but she had to, for the children's sake. She whipped out her wand, but Voldemort was too quick for her.

_"AVADA KEDAVARA!"_ he shouted. McGonagall fell backwards, her still warm corpse landed on a first year boy from Gryffindor.

Voldemort scanned the six children that accompanied McGonagall. They huddled around the Headmistress' body as if she would spring up at any moment and save them all from the Dark Lord. Two of the children were boys and wouldn't serve his purposes. He turned to Draco and Pansy and demanded; "Which one of these are virgins?"

Both Pansy and Draco were too stunned to respond right away. They had not expected to be here at Hogwarts.

"Which ones?" snarled Voldemort, causing the two young Death Eaters to snap back to the task at hand.

Draco noticed that two of the girls were no older than thirteen and assumed that they were virgins. Pansy quickly recognized the other two; they were Romilda Vane and Amelia Peterson, both fourth years. Pansy had heard through rumors that Amelia was an easy witch who dated many boys. She doubted Amelia was untouched. But Pansy had also heard Romilda was hopelessly in love with Potter and had often bragged she was saving herself for him.

Draco pointed at the two youngest girls and Pansy pointed at Romilda. Wormtail scurried out from behind Voldemort and placed a tiny amulet around each selected girl's neck. Before the three girls could react, Macnair touched his wand on the amulets and they vanished from sight. The amulets were one-way Portkeys, designed to send the wearer to the dungeon in Voldemort's castle.

"Three down," Voldemort commented and walked down one of the halls, leaving the girls that Draco and Pansy had not picked to their fates. His inner circle fell in behind him.

"If you see anyone you think is a virgin point them out and we will take care of them," Voldemort said to Draco and Pansy as he continued to walk.

The group walked through the halls of Hogwarts. They would often find a group of students huddled in a classroom or a dark corner of a hallway. Many of the boys were dead and the girls were unharmed as per Voldemort's orders. He had ordered his followers not to touch the witches because he needed a set amount of virgins for his planned ritual. He wouldn't be able to reach his quota if his Death Eaters killed them all.

Whenever Voldemort and his team came across a group of girls, the Dark Lord would turn and wait for Draco and Pansy. Draco would judge whether a witch was a virgin or not based strictly on their apparent age. He only chose girls who looked like they were in their first or second year. If they looked like they could've been in their third year or older, Draco dismissed them instantly. Pansy was more coldly selective in her choices. Whereas Draco only picked out the eleven to thirteen year olds, Pansy went after some of the older girls, but her choices weren't random like Draco's. If she recognized the girl, she would make herself remember all the rumors and talk she had heard about them. If she had even heard the slightest rumor about the girl having sex or being overly intimate, Pansy would discount her. But if Pansy had heard that the girl was a prude, virtuous, or was frigid, she would point them out.

Once the girl was identified by Draco or Pansy as being a potential virgin, Wormtail would place the tiny amulet around their neck and Macnair would then activate the Portkey sending them to the dungeons of the Dark Lord's stronghold. Bellatrix, Nelson, and Rutherford just stood around looking menacing, which was easy for the two wizards because of their sheer size; each one was at least six and a half feet tall and weighed in at no less than twenty stone.

Nearly a half-hour later, Voldemort and his team came across an Acromantula the size of a pony eating a fifteen year old boy. Draco felt Pansy's hand wrap around his in fear. Acromantulas were vicious beasts who were known wizard killers. These must've been the monsters that the Dark Lord had referred to as being their allies. But how his Master had planned to keep the spiders from attacking Death Eaters was a mystery to Draco. As far as he knew, Acromantulas couldn't be tamed or even bargained with. Voldemort and his team passed the Acromantula unmolested; the giant spider was apparently content with his meal.

A few minutes later, they came across another Acromantula. This time the massive spider left its feast of two dead bodies in exchange for an attack on Voldemort and his party. The Dark Lord stood his ground as the Acromantula charged at him. Before the spider got within five feet of Voldemort, the gold medallion around the Dark Lord's neck began to glow. The Acromantula reared back while screaming in what sounded like fear. The spider scurried back to its food and hissed at Voldemort and his team as they passed.

"I forgot to thank both Draco and Wormtail for their successful mission," Voldemort announced causally as they approached another group of six frightened Hogwarts' witches. "Without the Basilisk scales they retrieved from the bowels of this castle, we would not have been able to enlist the Acromantulas to help us."

Out of the six witches in this new group, two were professors, Vector and Sinistra. Both were excluded by Draco and Pansy automatically. One eleven year old was chosen by Draco, and another seventeen year old was picked by Pansy.

When Wormtail scurried up to the two chosen girls to place the amulet around their necks, one of the professors tried to fire off a hex at the rat-like man. Bellatrix sprang into action. Vector screamed in agony as Bella hit her with the Curciatus. Sinistra tried to grab the two girls that Draco and Pansy had pointed out and escape, but a Killing Curse from Nelson stopped Sinistra. While Vector continued to scream, Wormtail placed the amulets around the two girls' necks and Macnair activated the Portkeys.

After the two young witches were transported to Voldemort's dungeon, the Dark Lord turned to Wormtail and asked; "How many does that make?"

Wormtail quickly counted the remaining Portkey amulets. They had started out with twenty-five amulets and only three were left. "Twenty-two, Master," answered Wormtail.

"I think that's a sufficient number," Voldemort commented. He conjured a length of rope that hovered in front of him and his team. Then Voldemort touched his wand to the rope and incanted _"Portus."_

As the rope glowed and shook, the Dark Lord turned to his minions and stated, "I believe your fellow Death Eaters, giants, and Acromantulas will take care of the stragglers."

In a few seconds, Voldemort and his team disappeared from Hogwarts.

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After Hogsmeade and its inhabitants were turned into nothing more than a smoking waste, the team of Death Eaters decided to join the fray at the castle. Aided by the adrenaline caused by the thrill of the destruction they had caused, it took them only fifteen minutes of running get to Hogwarts.

The giants and Acromantulas were crawling all over the north side of the castle, doing an effective job of ruining the ancient structure. So the Death Eaters decided to use their skills and talents on the south side of the building.

Their shouts of _"Flamen Aboleo!"_ were drowned out by the sounds of large chunks of rock, brick, and mortar being blown into dust.

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Meanwhile, in the lobby of the Ministry building, a soft grumbling noise came from Ron's stomach.

"Are you hungry?" Hermione asked knowing the answer; Ron was always hungry. The young man was constantly eating.

"I'm fine," he said dismissively as another grumble sounded from his belly.

Hermione looked at the time and saw that it was a quarter past one in the afternoon. She guessed that Ron hadn't had anything to eat in over five hours.

"I'll pop down to the cafeteria and fetch a snack," Hermione offered with a kind smile.

"That would be brilliant," Ron admitted, grinning. Hermione gave Ron a quick peck on the cheek and made her way across the lobby toward the lift.

The moment she was in front of the community floo fireplace, it erupted in green flames. Hermione froze; this was it, she realized. The Death Eaters were attacking and some of them were coming in from the floo.

Before she could retreat for cover, a tiny figure burst out of the green flames. He was so small that he was barely taller than Hermione's elbow. The tiny man was also smoldering and his skin was burnt and black; it was obvious that he had been engulfed in flames. Clearly the magical green flames of the floo were not what had burned him. He must have been on fire a short time before he had entered the floo. The tiny man staggered and pleaded with his blue eyes at Hermione.

"Miss Granger," he squeaked. "Help…"

Hermione's blood ran cold as the man fell at her feet. She recognized his eyes and his voice; it was Filius Flitwick; professor of Charms.

"IT'S A TRAP!" Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs. "THEY'RE ATTACKING HOGWARTS!"

Scrimgeour, his face pale with fear, instantly started barking orders.

"Everyone floo to the school now!" the Minister boomed. A number of people began rushing to the community floo.

Hermione knelt down and held Flitwick's charred hand. The small man looked up at her with lifeless eyes and Hermione knew that she couldn't help him.

"The floo's not working!" a wizard shouted in panic.

"The Death Eater's must have destroyed all the fireplaces in the castle," another speculated.

Scrimgeour did not hesitate. He ordered in a loud voice: "Everyone Apparate or floo to Hogsmeade! _NOW!"_

Hermione closed her eyes and focused on the gates to the grounds of Hogwarts. She felt as if she was being squeezed through a tube and after a moment landed in front of the gates. In less than a second, Ron, Susan, Daphne, and many others Hermione didn't recognize appeared around her. Hermione looked up at the castle and her heart seemed to stop beating at what she saw. It was obvious from her vantage point that the castle was burning and that the Astronomy Tower had fallen. Faint sounds of terrified screams reached her ears.

"It'll take us forever to get there," a wizard commented remorsefully somewhere behind her. "We can't Apparate onto the grounds. The wards will stop us."

"Merlin, Hogsmeade is leveled," another spoke.

"Quick, somebody make a Portkey so we can get up there!"

A thought occurred to Hermione as the witches and wizard chattered behind her. If the school was falling, perhaps the wards blocking Apparation had fallen as well. If they hadn't fallen then hopefully they would be weakened at least. The brunette witch decided to test her theory. She closed her eyes once more and picked a place on the edge of the grounds, someplace she was familiar with. She reasoned that if she Apparated on the edge of the wards and to someplace she was intimately familiar with, she could break through the wards if they were weakened. Ever since she was a first year, she had visited Hagrid at his hut and it had become very familiar to her.

With a crack, Hermione appeared right outside Hagrid's door. She immediately found it hard to breathe; the smell of the fire coming from the castle burned her nose and she could smell something akin to meat being baked to a crisp. The ground trembled beneath her feet. Screams of battle and pain filled the air. Over a hundred feet to her left, she saw a dozen or so Acromantulas hauling students into the forest. The lucky victims were already dead or unconscious. The screams of the unlucky ones made Hermione want to vomit. Even from such a distance, she could see the conscious students desperately clawing at the earth in a vain attempt to stop; their fingers digging narrow trenches in the grass and dirt. She knew that she could not help those poor souls; they were too far away for her to rescue them in time. All she could do was watch them be dragged away to their deaths.

Several giants were rampaging through what used to be the greenhouses. Another group of giants were physically beating on the ancient stone walls with their bare fists or boulders used as makeshift clubs, causing the walls to break and crumble.

A screech alerted Hermione to a pack of Acromantulas charging at her. She steeled herself to fend them off; perhaps a Flame Charm cast directly in front of them would do the trick. But when the spiders got near a large patch of dirt outside of Hagrid's cabin, they suddenly turned and ran the other direction; as if they were afraid of that spot of the ground. To Hermione's eye, there was nothing spectacular about that patch of dirt; the only thing that came to her attention was that it appeared to have been dug up a few months previously.

_"AVADA KEDAVARA!"_ a voice screamed and a green bolt of magic tore passed Hermione's hair, missing her by a few scant inches.

She snapped to attention and quickly aimed her wand and shouted _"STUPEFY!"_ The Death Eater who had tried to kill Hermione fell to the ground. Another Death Eater standing near the one who just fell was hit by Hermione's next Stunning Spell.

Hermione was about to launch another Stunner at a Death Eater some distance away. But before Hermione could cast her spell, a giant noticed her and lumbered toward the brunette witch. The giant's massive legs helped him cross the distance to Hermione in little time.

Hermione launched a Stunner at the charging giant, but the red bolt of magic harmlessly bounced off of his chest. She sent a Blasting Hex at his feet, hoping to trip him up. But the giant just continued to charge at her, oblivious to her attempts to hinder his attack.

A crack sounded next to Hermione and Ron appeared at her side. He quickly nodded his head at Hermione, and Hermione took that as a plan to hit the giant with Stunners from both of them at the same time. Perhaps two Stunners would prove to be more effective than just one. They both leveled their wands and Hermione shouted _"Stupefy!"_ once more. However, Ron shouted _"AVADA KEDAVARA!"_

Hermione's red stunner bounced off the giant like before. But Ron's Killing Curse hit the giant in the belly and the green bolt of magic seemed to be absorbed into his stomach. The giant stumbled but still continued to move rapidly toward Ron and Hermione.

Hermione looked at Ron in shock. He had just used an Unforgivable. She was stunned that Ron opened up with a Killing Curse, even if it was in self defense. An Unforgivable wasn't something one did lightly.

_"AVADA KEDAVARA!"_ Ron shouted again and the giant stumbled even more. Although its pace had slowed to a lumber, the giant was still moving forward.

Two more cracks sounded and a pair of young wizards who had the same uniform as Ron appeared next to Hermione. The two newcomers immediately launched Killing Curses at the giant. Two green bolts struck the giant in the upper chest and left leg. The giant swayed in place for a moment before Ron hit him with one final Killing Curse. The earth shook beneath their feet when the giant crashed to the ground.

"Weasley, Marshal, Segundus," a voice barked out from behind them. Hermione, Ron, and his two fellow recruits turned to find a large group of M. L. E. officers and recruits marching up the hill towards the castle. Apparently, this group had followed Hermione's lead and had Apparated to the edge of the grounds. A gruff man was pointing directly at Hermione as he shouted orders at the three wizards around her: "Take that civilian and those Death Eaters back to the Ministry," the man commanded and Ron along with his fellow recruits saluted. "Wait there for further orders!'

The two recruits, Marshal and Segundus, walked over to the Death Eaters that Hermione had stunned and Apparated away, taking their prisoners with them. Ron stood next to Hermione.

"C'mon, let's go," he said quietly while Hermione stared sadly at the burning ruins that used to be Hogwarts. Ron's words did not reach her. He wrapped his hand around her arm and stated firmly; "Hermione, I have to get you out of here."

With her eyes still fixed on the now ruined school, Hermione nodded her head and Apparated back to the Ministry.

**x**

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When Voldemort and his team returned to his castle, the Dark Lord told Bellatrix to fetch her sister, Narcissa, and check on the_ "status" _of the witches in the dungeon. Voldemort did not care about the young girls' wellbeing; rather he wanted Bellatrix and Narcissa to inspect them, making sure that the girls were indeed virgins.

The two sisters spent the next few minutes stripping each girl in turn, and then forcing the girl's legs apart to check whether or not she had her hymen intact. After they finished, Bellatrix and Narcissa marched the twenty-two still naked witches to their Master's chamber. In the chamber, Voldemort was flanked by Nelson and Rutherford; Pansy and Draco stood silently off in the corner. The kidnapped girls huddled together and trembled in fear as Voldemort inspected them.

"What did you find?" the Dark Lord asked the sisters. "Which ones aren't virgins?"

"Those three don't have their hymen," Narcissa said, indicating the three girls on the end. "Technically they might still be virgins. We can use Vertaserum on them to see if they lost it due to intercourse or an accident."

"Don't bother," Voldemort said dismissively. "I don't want to waste such a valuable potion for something so unnecessary. We have more than enough confirmed virgins for the ritual and enough to entertain and feed my pet once he returns."

"What shall we do with these three, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked. She had a sadistic glimmer in her eye. She knew what his answer would be and it made her tingle in anticipation.

"Kill them," he answered simply, as if he was rather bored with the three young girls.

The three girls screamed as Rutherford approached them. The Death Eater brute pointed his wand at a sixteen year old that Pansy had picked out and shouted _"AVADA KEDAVARA!"_

The screams stopped the moment the girl hit the floor. The other witches were consumed by too much terror to do anything besides whimper. The second girl that Narcissa pointed out, a twelve year old Draco had chosen, curled up into a tight little ball and squatted on the ground. Bellatrix shivered in delight as the girl begged in a weak and scared voice, "Please don't… I went ice-skating with my mum and dad last Christmas…. I slipped and fell… I'm still a virgin… I swear… I swear I'm still a virgin."

Her cries for mercy ended when Rutherford shouted _"AVADA KEDAVARA!"_ for a second time. The last girl, another witch Pansy had pointed out, fell to Rutherford's third Killing Curse.

Voldemort returned to pacing in front of the naked girls, inspecting them further. While his cold eyes were still fixed on the witches before him, Voldemort stated; "Pansy, Draco, I have another assignment for you."

"Anything, Master," both Pansy and Draco answered, eager to prove themselves yet again.

"You know of my special guest," Voldemort began. "I must defile him in a most heinous way in preparation for the final step in the ritual. Which one of these girls would be best for that?"

Draco instantly pointed at the youngest looking girl. She was a little eleven year old who had pretty hazel eyes with blonde pigtails and a round face. Draco found himself longing for those innocent eyes to look up at him in fear. He felt his manhood begin to swell at the thought. Voldemort considered Draco's choice for a moment before asking for Pansy's.

Much like how she had chosen the witches when they had captured them in Hogwarts, Pansy thought about everything she knew or had heard about the girls. She stopped when her eyes fell on Romilda Vane.

"That one," Pansy said and she pointed at the bold looking girl.

Voldemort was intrigued by Pansy's choice. When he had asked Draco, he had seen through his skill in Legilimency the boy's sexual desire to see the girl in pain. But there was something more malicious and devious in Pansy's choice besides wanting to see a girl in physical agony.

"Why did you pick that one?" Voldemort asked about Pansy's choice, as if Romilda was a piece of meat.

"She believes that she is in love with him, and he knows it," Pansy replied. "It would have_ 'special' _meaning to the two of them I believe, sire."

"Good choice, my dear," Voldemort stated, and Pansy beamed with pride. In his mind, Pansy had made the perfect choice. She hadn't chosen the youngest or most innocent out of the group like Draco had. Instead, she chose one that had affection for Potter. To turn that emotion into a mockery would hurt Potter on a much deeper level.

Voldemort took Romilda's hand and, much like a gentleman, guided her away from the other witches, leaving her to stand in between Draco and Pansy. The young witch stood trembling with her arms wrapped around her body in a vain attempt to hide her nudity and protect herself. Then Voldemort started to pace once again. He was inspecting the rest of the kidnapped virgins for their beauty, or for the younger and undeveloped ones, their potential beauty. He needed seven virgins for the ritual to call his pet from the darkness; it would be a waste to destroy the pretty ones for that. He also wanted the beautiful ones to be his pet's toys; the Dark Lord didn't want to give his pet the unattractive ones. His pet would deserve the very best. Out of the group, he separated the seven least attractive and had them stand off to the side, away from Narcissa and Bellatrix.

He turned to Narcissa and commanded, "You have seven months to train these girls to be proper concubines," he said indicating the group of eleven, more attractive girls. "Make them worthy of my pet."

Narcissa nodded her head and led the cowering girls out of the chamber. The witches obediently followed the blonde witch. Whatever Narcissa was going to do to them wouldn't be as bad as what He Who Must Not Be Named would do. The Dark Lord then ordered Macnair and Wormtail to prepare the seven girls that Voldemort considered too unattractive to be concubines for the ritual. The two wizards guided the seven virgins out of the chamber.

Voldemort walked up to Romilda and stroked her cheek in a tender and affectionate way.

"Your dream, my dear, is about to come true," the Dark Lord said menacingly, "In a fashion."

**x**

**x**

Narcissa led the eleven cowering girls to the west wing of the castle. She would have a difficult seven months ahead of her. Her Master bade her to make these girls into proper concubines. She had to train them how to walk, talk, and act.

And judging by the girls' current state, Narcissa was going to have a difficult task. Even through their fear, Narcissa could tell they were uncouth and uncivilized. Some of them were nothing more than Mudbloods, more than likely. But the Dark Lord gave her a task and she had to complete it, no matter how difficult it was. She had to prove that she was better than her husband, Lucius, who had failed their Master too many times.

**x**

**x**

Inside Hogwarts castle, Nymphadora Tonks and her team had become separated in the confusion. She had gone into the school in hopes of rescuing the students with a team of five other Aurors. But a few moments after they had entered, a pack of Acromantulas had charged at the six Aurors and they had split up into pairs. Tonks and Garret had run down the North corridor with three giant spiders in close pursuit. A Blasting Hex tossed over her shoulder had taken care of one of the monsters chasing them.

When she and Garret ran down another hall, one of the spider's fangs nicked Garret in the ankle. In the heat of the moment with adrenaline coursing through his veins, he had not noticed the scrape. Unfortunately, that same adrenaline sped the monster's poison to his heart. Garret collapsed onto the floor after five steps.

Tonks would've attempted to help her fallen comrade, but his body was pounced on by one of the two Acromantulas that were following them. The spider's fangs sunk into Garret's neck the moment it landed on him.

One Acromantula still continued to chase Tonks while the other feasted on the dead Auror. Blindly, Tonks fired another Blasting hex over her shoulder. This time, she was not as lucky and the hex flew wide, striking a wall over six feet away from the Acromantula.

She ran as fast as she could. The witch could hear the eight legs of the spider pounding on the ground, moving like pistons in a steam engine, as it gained on her.

Just as the massive spider was about to lunge at Tonks, a fireball the size of a bolder rocketed passed her head. It had been so close and so hot that it singed her unnaturally pink hair. The fireball hit the Acromantula and the monster blew up in a fiery explosion.

With her hair still smoldering, Tonks turned to her rescuer and said; "Boy am I glad to see your ugly face, Mad-Eye."

"Damn it, girl, where the hell's your backup?" grumbled Moody as he scanned the hallway.

"I can ask the same of you," she returned.

A painful scream emanated from somewhere in the castle. The agonizing cry echoed off the cold stone walls of the hall.

"They're all dead," Moody answered Tonks' question.

"So are mine more than likely," Tonks said. She knew that she'd mourn the fallen later.

"It's time to pull out," Moody said. His magical, electric blue eye whipped around and he threw his arm back to launch another large fireball behind him. A second later, the scream of an Acromantula filled the air.

"Moody, we can't leave," Tonks argued, "we have to save the kids!"

"I've been through three floors in this wing," as he spoke, a single tear rolled down his cheek from his good eye. "There ain't anyone alive to save."

Tonks knew that Moody was not one to exaggerate and this chilled her to her core.

**x**

**x**

Harry had not seen anyone in hours; something that was very unusual. Although Bellatrix had stopped torturing him what felt like days ago, a Death Eater would still enter the cell every quarter hour and cast a Full Body Bind on him to ensure that he couldn't move. It had been hours since anyone had recast the Body Bind, and the hex had worn off some time ago. Harry's head flopped to the side; his muscles had grown so weak from disuse that he couldn't even prop his head back up.

If he had been able to move his head and see the wounds on his body, Harry would have been mortified. The numerous cuts had crusted over; it was evident they would leave ugly, deep scars. He would have also seen that he had lost nearly all of his muscle mass. The mutilated wizard weighed half of what he did when he had been captured. He was a poor shadow of what he once was.

Suddenly, the cell door flew open and a number of people walked in. Even without his glasses, he could tell by the way the first figured arrogantly slithered into the chamber that Voldemort was leading the pack. Behind him, Bellatrix sauntered in and took her usual place next to Harry's slab. Harry wasn't able to recognize the next group of people to enter, but it appeared to be two very large and muscular men holding a small naked girl in between them. The last people to enter were Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, judging by his pale blond hair and how the black haired girl hovered close to him – which Pansy was known to do when they were in school together.

Lord Voldemort walked to the head of the slab and held Potter's head, moving it so that the boy was looking up at him.

"I have a present for you, Harry," the villain cooed. "I brought one of your old classmates to see you."

"H-Ha-Harry?" the girl asked in disbelief. Harry recognized her voice, it was Romilda Vane; the girl who tried to slip him a love potion the previous year.

If Romilda wasn't so frighten by being in the same room as You Know Who, she wouldn't have believed her eyes. That thing on the slab was Harry Potter! He barely looked alive, much less human. It was just ruined and bloodied skin draped over a skeleton.

"These lovely designs that Bellatrix worked so tirelessly on were only one stage of your preparation," Voldemort stated while tracing his long forefinger over one of the cuts in Harry's skin, clearly admiring the artistry of the wounds. "The next stage was to put those runes in your manhood. Those special rune stones are primarily for the binding, but I imagine your concubines will gain additional pleasure from them. The third part of the ritual is to defile the host. My pet can't live in a pure and wholesome body."

Voldemort waved his wand over Harry's face and the younger wizard's jaw was forced open; exactly like it had the day Bellatrix placed the runes in his penis.

"Remember this?" Voldemort mocked as he dangled a vial with a purple potion in it over Harry's face. He poured the contents in Harry's open mouth and then waved his wand, closing the boy's jaw.

Once again, Harry couldn't help but to swallow. A tingling sensation soon entered his loins. He felt his penis begin to swell and rise up. His sensitive skin stretched painfully over the great bulges of the rune stones under his flesh.

Bellatrix felt a twitch twinge in her center. She was loathed to admit it, but the foul half-blood's manhood looked so pleasing. It seemed to promise to stretch her out in such wonderful ways. At that moment, she vowed once her husband was again freed from Azkaban, she would implant similar objects in his organ for her own pleasure.

Despite the fact that Potter was larger than her lover, Pansy felt no desire for the half-blood. Pansy loved Draco, and even if he had turned out to be miniscule, which he was by no means, she would happily share his bed. Added to her revulsion of Potter were those disgusting, strange, large welts all over his shaft. He looked like a freak of nature.

"Romilda, is it?" Voldemort asked the young witch with fake sincerity. "I have to thank you for what you're about to do, Romilda. You'll be helping me greatly. You have my undying gratitude."

The fiend laughed in the young witch's face for a moment before he clicked his fingers and the two large Death Eaters, Nelson and Rutherford, pinned Romilda's arms behind her back and hoisted her up in the air while forcing her legs apart. She tried to struggle against them, but each Death Eater outweighed her by at least one hundred and fifty pounds, mostly of pure muscle. Hoisting her as if she weighed nothing, they carried the witch over to Potter until she was hovering over Potter's engorged penis. Without warning, they slammed her down onto his shaft.

Romilda screamed out in agony and shock as her hymen ruptured and the offending member ripped into her sensitive center. If Harry had been strong enough, he would have tried to save her. But because of his weakened state, all he could do was lie there helplessly while the two Death Eaters forced her down on him. He wished that he could make them pay.

Bellatrix giggled like a deranged school girl at Romilda's agonized reaction. Potter's organ had caused the girl so much pain. Bellatrix reasoned that Potter's large and bump-covered organ must have torn the girl up inside.

The two Death Eaters picked Romilda up, only to slam her down again. The poor girl screamed once more. Again and again, they lifted the poor girl up only to smash her down on Harry's erect organ.

Draco watched with odd curiosity. He felt nothing for the girl or her screams, which was surprising to him. He thought that he would be highly aroused at Vane's suffering as he normally was during the numerous times he had one Muggle rape another. But he felt nothing at all, not even a tingle. He began to worry; did he need more than just one person's screams now to become aroused. To see if this was the case, Draco focused intently on Vane's cries and her suffering.

Pansy, on the other hand, had to look away. Vane was nothing more than a blood-traitor and deserved to suffer, but it wouldn't do for a proper witch like Pansy to take enjoyment in the blood-traitor's pain. If it was a Muggle being assaulted, she would have had no problem in it, since they were foul sub-human things to Pansy.

Licking her lips hungrily, Bellatrix moaned softly. All the pain coming from the witch as well as Potter's obvious anguish over the girl's torture made her tingle and itch. If the boy wasn't such a filthy half-blood, and if she were alone with him, Bellatrix would've been sorely tempted to mount him. She would have ridden him like a hippogriff as his cock pushed into her. She imagined that those lovely half-spheres would rub her inner-walls in delectable ways. Then, she found herself wondering what it would feel like to have his hot seed in her and she became queasy. The thought of having such an impure thing like Potter sully her womb disgusted her.

Technically, Nelson and Rutherford were unnecessary. Voldemort could've easily put the girl under the Imperius and make her rape Potter. But Voldemort wanted the girl's screams to be heard. He wanted Potter to know that she didn't want this, even in the slightest, and that he was the instrument of her agony.

As the two large Death Eaters continued to force her up and down violently on Harry's manhood, the young wizard wanted to shout out and beg them to stop. It was one thing to be tortured himself, to have someone cause him pain. Unfortunately that was something that he had gotten used to over the past few weeks. It was awful to watch someone else suffer, though. And, as horrible as it was to watch someone being tortured, being used in that torture was unbearable to Harry. These bastards were using Harry as a tool to hurt Romilda. They were using him like a weapon to inflict pain on the poor innocent witch and there was nothing Harry could do. He knew that one of the reasons they were doing this beyond _"defiling him"_ physically was to cause Harry emotional pain. Her screams pierced his soul. He wanted them to stop, not so much for his sake, but for hers. Harry wanted Romilda to stop hurting. Her anguished cries tore him up more than anything Bellatrix or Voldemort had done to him. She was innocent and they were just using her to make Harry suffer.

He knew that the sadistic bastards would enjoy his desperate pleas for mercy too much. Harry was positive that they would only increase Romilda's pain just to make him suffer more. Knowing that his cries would only encourage the Death Eaters, he decided to remain quiet, even though he wanted to scream for them to stop.

After a few more moments, nature finally took over and Harry came. The two large Death Eaters hoisted Romilda up. Blood trickled out of her violated groin and pooled on Harry's genitals.

Laughing like a lunatic, Bellatrix leapt up and, leaning over Harry, mocked in her sickly childlike voice, "Do you see that, wee baby Potter? You did that to poor widdle Romilda. That cock of yours tore her up good. Look..." the evil witch pointed at the gore still dripping from the girl. "Look close, you can see your cum dribbling out of her cunt. You nasty, naughty boy, look what you did!"

Romilda sobbed even harder at Bellatrix's comments. The two large Death Eaters tossed the girl aside. She yelped in pain as she crashed to the floor.

Words couldn't describe how dirty and used Harry felt as he heard Romilda whimper in fear and pain. Even though he could not see her, he knew that the poor girl was curled up in a tight ball, holding her hands over her assaulted womanhood, sobbing over the pain and fear that ripped through her. Deep down inside, he knew the only way he'd ever feel remotely clean is if he strangled the two large Death Eaters for doing this to him and Romilda. To dig his fingers into their throats and watch their eyes bulge and faces turn a dark blue as their life was squeezed from them.

A part of Harry wanted to tell Romilda that everything was going to be okay in an attempt to ease her suffering. But he knew that was a lie. She probably wouldn't be alive in an hour. And wishing for a quick and painless death for the girl was out of the question as well. The notion of what they would do to her chilled Harry; she would probably die screaming.

"Bellatrix, Pansy, and Draco, if you would care to assist me with the next part of the ritual?" requested Voldemort as if he and his Death Eaters had just witnessed something as trivial as a game of chess instead of a brutal rape.

"Yes Master," Pansy replied.

"Anything you wish my Lord," Bellatrix voiced her answer.

Draco nodded silently; he was still lost in thought. The entire time that Vane was screaming, he didn't feel the slightest stir in his loins, and this vexed him.

"Very good," Voldemort said cheerfully. "Bella, if you would help Pansy and Draco escort Harry to the special cell, you know where it is."

Pansy took her Master's suggestion as the order it was and waved her wand at Potter. The frail wisp of a boy levitated off of the slab and Pansy guided him out of the room. In the hall, Bellatrix led Pansy, Draco, and Potter deeper into the bowels of the castle. After the others left the room, Voldemort turned to Rutherford and Nelson.

"You two did a fine job today," the Dark Lord said. The two Death Eaters beamed with pride at their Master's compliment. "I have decided to reward you two with…" Voldemort paused and pointed to Vane who was huddled up in a ball on the floor, "To reward you with her. Play to your hearts' content, but do clean up afterwards."

After their Master left, Nelson, and Rutherford spent the next half hour taking turns assaulting Romilda until they got bored with her. Once they had finally killed her, the two Death Eaters then transfigured her corpse into an old shoe and threw it in the garbage with the rest of the trash.

**x**

**x**

When Hermione, Ron, his two fellow recruits, and their prisoners arrived back at the Ministry, Daphne and Susan pounced on Hermione and enveloped the brunette witch in a tight hug.

"Are you okay?" Susan asked with worry in her eyes. Tears streamed down her face.

"We wanted to go up to the castle with you," Daphne stated while wiping the tears from her eyes. "But Mad-Eye started barking at us; told us it was no place for civilians."

"He threatened to arrest every civilian who tried to Apparate onto the grounds after you did. He said we'd just get in the way," Susan added. "He then told us to come back here."

"We were so worried for you," Daphne said.

The entire time her two friends were talking to her, Hermione just stared off into the distance, her face becoming paler by the second. Her mind was plagued by the images she had just witnessed.

"'Mione, I have to go book these two," Ron said placing his hand on her shoulder. "Are you going to be okay?"

Hermione barely nodded her head in response to Ron's question. He patted her on the shoulder twice before helping his fellow recruits take the two stunned Death Eaters to the Ministry holding cells.

Daphne and Susan still held onto Hermione and spoke to her. Their voices were full of compassion and concern. But Hermione couldn't hear their words; it had all become muffled and distorted. All the brunette witch could hear was the screams of the school children; the ones being dragged into the forest by Acromantulas and those still trapped in the burning castle.

The grief and shock of it all finally overcame Hermione. She collapsed in her friends' arms and began to sob hysterically. Their friend's pain caused Daphne and Susan to weep and the three witches cried in each others' arms.

**x**

**x**

Black smoke filled the halls of Hogwarts. Most of the Death Eaters had trouble seeing more than twenty feet in front of them. Locating any stragglers was proving difficult.

Also, the giants were now roaming the halls and corridors looking for something or someone to eat. The medallions the Dark Lord provided the Death Eaters kept the Acromantulas from attacking them, but the Death Eaters had no such defense against the giants. If any of the giants decided to attack a Death Eater, there would be nothing to stop them.

These two factors, the spreading fire and the threat of the berserk giants, led several of the group leaders to signal their teams to return to their Master's castle. The Death Eaters reasoned that any student or instructor that they had missed would be dealt with by the giants and spiders or engulfed in the fire.

**x**

**x**

On the grounds surrounding Hogwarts, the Ministry forces were fighting a losing battle. There were scores of giants and hundreds of Acromantulas swarming all over. In the first fifteen minutes that the Ministry forces arrived at the scene of the battle, they had already lost thirty wizards and witches.

Having seem the utter carnage in the castle, the senior officer present declared Hogwarts a loss and signaled the retreat. With giants and Acromantulas rampaging through the corridors and rooms of the castle; there was no possible way anyone was left alive.

**x**

**x**

After walking for several minutes through numerous corridors, passageways and down several stairs, Bellatrix, Pansy, Draco, and Harry arrived at a trap door in the cellar and waited. A few moments later, Voldemort strolled up to the group. The Dark Lord flicked his wand and the trap door swung open. Inside was a set of stairs that appeared to have been carved out of the bedrock. Voldemort led them down the stairs and into the blackness.

They walked for some time in complete darkness. Voldemort was leading them as if by memory. Then a light appeared ahead of them and they slowly approached it. When they got to the light, they found Wormtail, Macnair and the seven young witches that Voldemort deemed too unattractive waiting for them.

"Place Potter in the circle," Voldemort ordered.

Pansy levitated Harry to the center of the circle and set him on the floor. Even though he didn't have his glasses and couldn't see properly; Harry could tell that he was in the middle of a pentagram surrounded by runes that were carved into the rock floor. It was exactly like the one in his most recent dream.

Voldemort walked over to Macnair, who was holding an ornately decorated and bejeweled robe. The Dark Lord discarded his simple black robes and Macnair helped his Master dress in the ceremonial dress. Then Macnair drew the knife Bellatrix had used to carve the designs on Harry's body out of his own robes and handed it to Voldemort.

While holding the blade in his off hand, Voldemort walked up to Harry. He stood over the boy's prone body and glowered.

"You have been a nuisance for too long, Harry. An annoying thorn in my side," the villain spoke softly and evenly, masking the pure hatred he felt for the boy. "But soon, you will be my willing and eager servant. You will play out any order I give you. I could even order you to rape your little Mudblood bitch and you'd happily take her virtue. Although, I'm certain someone else will do that job and violate her long before your transformation will be complete."

If Harry could, he would have spit in Voldemort's eye. He wanted to boldly tell the fiend he would never become a puppet for him and he would never hurt anyone for the bastard; especially Hermione.

"Ah," Voldemort sighed happily. "We shall have such good times, you and I."

Voldemort flicked his wand and Harry rapidly rose up into a standing position. It was as if invisible strings lifted him off the ground by his head and shoulders and forced him to stand like a marionette.

Another flick of his wand and one of the girls came sailing through the air and into the pentagram. Voldemort grabbed the girl by her hair and moved her so that she was in between him and Harry, facing the emaciated wizard. He held the curved blade to her throat. He spoke calmly and slowly as the girl whimpered and wet herself in fear.

_"Hear me, Creature of the Darkness," _Voldemort spoke in a loud and clear voice._ "I offer up these sacrifices for you!"_

Voldemort slashed through the girl's throat and her blood sprayed out like a fountain. Harry squeezed his eye's shut as hard as he could in an attempt to keep the blood out of them as the warm red fluid coated his face, chest, and neck. The girl kicked fruitlessly as she gurgled. Once the girl's blood slowed to a trickle, Voldemort tossed her to the side. He flicked his wand again and another girl floated into the pentagram. This girl screamed and clawed at the air as she desperately tried to find something to hold on to in order to stop her from flying to the Dark Lord. But the girl's attempts were futile, and she flew into Voldemort's arms. The girl looked up into his red eyes and screamed even louder. Voldemort ignored the girl's cries and continued to incant.

_"I call upon thee to do my bidding!"_

Again, the blade cut open the girl's neck and her blood sprayed onto Harry. The young wizard heard the blade rip through the girl's neck so deeply that it scraped against bone.

Bellatrix felt like doing a little dance of happiness, while Pansy was intrigued by what her Master was doing. She scolded herself for watching. Much like when Vane was violated, she felt that proper witches didn't watch such things. But her Master was obviously summoning a demon. She had never seen such a ritual and was fascinated by it. Draco was truly concerned about his state. The second witch was making a pleasant bubbling sound while she struggled to breathe through the enormous gash in her neck. That combined with the fear pouring off the five other girls that were huddled in the corner, Draco reasoned that he should have been as hard as steel. But instead of being completely aroused, he was utterly limp and flaccid. For some reason, the girls' fear and screams did not affect him.

After tossing the second girl away, Voldemort summoned another.

"Please, no," the girl whimpered and Voldemort grabbed a fistful of her hair.

_"Hear me and be unleashed on this realm!" _Voldemort continued to incant and then slit the girl's throat.

Harry felt the rage burn inside him. He wanted his strength back, just for one brief moment. A moment where he'd rip out Voldemort's tongue and shove that bloody knife into the monster's genitals. Harry imagined the thrill he'd feel if he got the chance to twist the blade in his groin, mangling Voldemort's manhood. Harry longed to hear the villain scream in agony.

The next girl was summoned and the pile of dead bodies grew.

_"I beseech thee, oh Creature of the Darkness, come to me and be my servant!"_

Another girl died at Voldemort's hand. Harry could hear her body twitch as she lay dieing on the pile of corpses.

_"Your Master calls thee!" _and a fifth girl's throat was sliced open, then the sixth.

When the seventh and last girl, the youngest of the group, floated into the pentagram, she wasn't screaming or begging for mercy. With tears flowing freely from her eyes, she pleaded in a soft, sad voice; "Please let me see my mummy. I want to tell her I love her. Please let me say goodbye to my mummy."

Voldemort stopped his incantation and commented in a cruel and mocking way to Harry; "Isn't that just sweet? She loves her mummy," before slashing the knife through the girl's neck.

Bellatrix wanted to cheer at her Master's words and action; they touched her in the pits of her dark heart. Pansy sniggered loudly at the girl's request; it was such a foolish thing to ask for. She wondered why the girl would even bother; it was obvious that she was going to die. The girl had foolishly wasted her last breath.

Harry heard a woman laugh at the girl's final request. It wasn't Bellatrix; Harry had become very familiar with that whore's voice and laughter. So that meant Pansy found the girl's pleas humorous and entertaining. Hopefully, the Slytherin cunt would find out someday what it felt like to be laughed at as she died.

A sudden realization came to Draco as he watched the seventh girl slowly die. These witches didn't fear Draco or his presence; it was all directed at the Dark Lord, rightfully so. Even still, Draco thought that he should have at least been slightly aroused at their pain and fear; feeding off of their anguish. But it dawned upon him. It wasn't the fear and pain that turned him on; not any longer. It was the power he had over them that aroused him. When he had forced that first Muggle to rape his sister, Draco was in control. He could have ended the girl's suffering or he could've stretched it out for hours. Draco was the one with the power; he was the one in control. That is what was turning him on. He decided that the next time he went on his little Muggle Hunt, he wouldn't just have a Muggle rape someone while he watched; he'd control them. Not under the Imperius, that was too easy. No, Draco would make them do things because he would be the one in control. The blond wizard couldn't wait to test out this new theory. He felt his member twitch at the thought of the power he would wield.

Voldemort tossed the last girl away and drew the blade's edge across his own hand. He hissed through his teeth as a gash on his palm opened up.

_"Let my blood guide thee," _he incanted and held his bleeding hand up in front of Harry._ "Let your Master's blood command thee!"_

The Dark Lord placed his cut palm against Harry's chest. Suddenly, Harry felt as if he was on fire. The intense pain raced along the pathways of the scarring inflicted on his body. It burned every fiber of his being. He tried to scream as he felt the flames burn away his flesh. But he was in too much agony to even draw a breath.

The Death Eaters all watched as Potter twitched and convulsed in mid air, held up by invisible ropes. He thrashed about and had his mouth open as if he was trying to scream. His veins bulged out in his neck and face. The half-blood's complexion became a dark and angry red. Bellatrix swooned over the pain the boy was enduring.

Without warning, Potter vanished. He disappeared into thin air without a pop or bang. He just vanished, like he had never been there.

Voldemort smiled triumphantly. It had gone exactly as planned. Potter was banished into another realm, where the demon would fuse and bond with him. In a few months, Voldemort would get his pet. A pet to destroy all that opposed him.

"Leave this place as it is. Seal it off. No one is to enter until he returns in seven months," Voldemort commanded.

**To be continued…**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Six

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

**x**

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**x**

_Hogwarts Has Fallen! Giants on the loose! Hogwarts now a nest for Acromantulas!_

_A Daily Prophet Special Report._

_In a brazen attack, He Who Must Not Be Named, his Death Eaters, at least eighty Giants, and countless Acromantulas attacked Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry killing all students and staff. Hogsmeade village was also attacked and early reports show that at least one hundred people lie dead in the wizarding village! And when the Ministry sent personnel to the carnage that was the school, another thirty-one people were lost._

_The Ministry had pulled the division of M. L. E. officers normally assigned to guard the school and Hogsmeade. The decision to remove all of the schools security forces was due to several reports that Death Eaters were planning on a massive strike against the Ministry building itself. The Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, opted to redundantly staff his headquarters with the M. L. E. personnel from Hogwarts. But sadly, the rumors of the attack were a planned deception to lure any scant protection away from the school. The ministry's current explanation is that You Know Who fed the Ministry this misinformation in hopes of leaving the school open to attack without any sort of defense._

_One hundred and eighty three of this nation's children were in the castle at the time of the attacked. All are assumed dead; assumed because the number of the dead cannot be confirmed, nor can any of the bodies of the dead be recovered. The reason for this condition is due to the hundreds of Acromantulas that have taken over the now ruined castle to use as their nesting ground. No one can approach the scene of destruction with out putting their lives in mortal peril. _

_The only accomplishment the Ministry can be proud of this day is the capture of two supposed low ranking Death Eaters. A Ministry spokes-wizard claims that under interrogation, the two dark wizards admit to the belief that they were to attack the Ministry of Magic building and that the real target was revealed to them only after they arrived at Hogwarts. Each Death Eater was reportedly wearing a magic amulet around his neck. Within the amulet, Unspeakables found a Basilisk scale, designed to keep the wearer protected from the Acromantulas (the monstrous spiders fear the legendary King of the Serpents and avoid it)._

_Several dozen giants are now rumored to be roaming northern Scotland after the Acromantulas chased them away from the castle. Civilians are warned to stay inside until the Giants have been rounded up by Ministry personnel._

_A nation morns the loss of over three hundred witches and wizards (the one hundred and eighty three students, ten instructors and staff, the hundred villagers, and the thirty-one Ministry personnel lost during the battle)._

**x**

**x**

Rufus Scrimgeour sat at his desk with his face in his hands as guilt and sorrow wreck his mind and soul. The school was a complete loss. With the deadly Acromantulas nesting there now, it would be impossible to ever reclaim the castle without endangering even more lives. But the school was just a place, made of mortar and stone. The instructors and children could never be replaced. Over one hundred and eighty children had been wiped out in one stroke.

And Rufus blamed himself.

He was the one who reassured the parents that their children would be safe. He was the one that guaranteed that Voldemort would not attack the school. So sure of his theory, Scrimgeour had no problem ordering the school's regiment of M. L. E. Officers away from the castle in order to reinforce the Ministry defense. He was utterly wrong, and now hundreds of people were dead because of that disastrous mistake.

Rufus had spent the last few hours trying to write a letter; telling people that he was the one to blame. The one who made the decision to leave the school unprotected. And the fault rested solely on him. But Rufus wasn't a man of many words; he usually spoke directly and to the point. So, after three hours of failed attempt after failed attempt to give words to his feelings in an elegant way, he settled on:

_"I am sorry, it is all my fault. No one else is to blame."_

Finally satisfied with his heartfelt letter, Rufus sat back in his chair and pointed his wand at his own head.

_"Avada Kedavra,"_ he muttered and a flash of green light erupted from his wand. His lifeless body slummed onto the desk.

**x**

**x**

The news of Scrimgeour's suicide spread like wildfire. The Daily Prophet ran a special edition with the headline _"Minister Dead by his own hand: Scrimgeour could not face the shame and guilt of the Hogwarts' tragedy!"_

The Minister's suicide ended up being nothing more than a side note in conversations about the horrific attack on Hogwarts. Many were still in shock over the loss of so many children while others demanded retribution.

Over the course of the next day, a new topic began to rise up all over Wizarding Britain: Muggles. At first, witches and wizards were concerned for the Muggles' safety; they could not stand a chance if the Death Eaters attacked them in a similar fashion. Many came to the conclusion that the Ministry should deploy M. L. E. and Aurors to protect major Muggle cities. It was a general belief among magical folk that it was their duty to protect Muggles from Dark Wizards and Witches.

But then, a debate arose. It started out as hushed conversations in dark corners of pubs and workplaces. Shortly thereafter it quickly grew to open arguments on street corners and then, by supper, into a battle cry.

The debate was that they, magical folk, could not even protect themselves from this threat; they had lost almost two hundred children. They came to realize if they spread the M. L. E. and Aurors to protecting Muggles, the wizarding population itself would be left defenseless against another attack by Death Eaters. If the wizards and witches who were trained to protect them were off defending Muggles, You Know Who and his forces could sack Diagon Alley without fear. Many argued that they had lost too much with the fall of Hogwarts, that they needed to protect themselves and not worry about Muggles. Besides, Muggles had weapons, didn't they? They should be able to protect themselves.

Two days after the Minister's suicide; the debate reached the Wizengamot as they argued who should be the witch or wizard to replace Scrimgeour. A large and vocal portion of the citizens of wizarding Britain were adamant that the Muggles would have to stand on their own. With the people's will known, the Wizengamot quickly elected Festus Godfrey as the new Minister for Magic.

Godfrey was no Death Eater nor was he a sympathizer. In fact, he had written several laws that gave convicted Dark Wizards harsher punishment. But he was vocal in his belief that witches and wizards were naturally superior to Muggles. He had often called for the Ministry to sever all ties with the Muggles; both politically and socially.

His election spoke volumes to the way magical folk were feeling. They wanted a strong wizard in charge; one who would severely punish the evil fiends who destroyed Hogwarts. As well as one who realized in this time of need, they could not bear to spread their forces too thin by protecting Muggles.

When a new Minister was elected, custom demanded that the new leader had to contact his Muggle counterpart, the Prime Minister, in person. Godfrey made no such attempt. He was too busy with the affairs of state to go have a chat with the other Minister. So, thumbing his nose at tradition, he simply sent the Muggle Minister a post, briefly describing the change in leadership and nothing more.

**x**

**x**

Voldemort was surprised at how quickly the new Minister had been elected. He had expected the debates to last for at least two weeks. But in the long run, it didn't matter what the Ministry did. Voldemort had struck a massive blow to those blood traitors and they were weak. It would take them time to rebuild their forces, and Voldemort planned to use that time to his benefit.

He knew that the new government would be unable to assert any sort of power for quite a while. Therefore, the Dark Lord decided to make things even more difficult for them.

**x**

**x**

Hermione spent the night after the attack with Susan and Daphne at the two witches' shared flat. The three didn't talk for hours. Susan and Daphne let Hermione sit silently, as they waited patiently for her to open up; which finally happened around three in the morning.

The brunette witch sobbed while Susan and Daphne held onto her. They had not seen what Hermione saw because they had been stopped before they could Apparate to the school grounds. They could not begin to imagine the horrors she had witnessed. In sentences fractured by fits of tears and bouts of painful silence, Hermione attempted to tell what she had experienced. Susan trembled and leaned into Hermione while Daphne clutched onto her two friends as Hermione finished her tale.

The three friends fell asleep in each others arms.

**x**

**x**

She didn't even bother filling out the reports the previous night. It would've been pointless to do so. All Tonks could've written was _"Everyone died."_ And she couldn't bring herself to do that.

So instead, Tonks went with Moody and her boyfriend, Remus, back to the retired Auror's home and numbed the pain she felt with a generous amount of firewhiskey. She had lasted longer than her boyfriend, but she blacked out shortly thereafter.

Now, in the morning, as the rest of the Order gathered at Moody's for an emergency meeting, Tonks tried to ignore the throbbing headache from her hangover. She also fought the tears that threatened to overtake her because of the knowledge that hundreds of people died the day before.

Molly Weasley had no such intention fighting the sorrow. She had been crying hysterically, both over the loss of so many children and over the fact that her children had not been among those. She berated herself over the knowledge that she could've killed Ron and Ginny if she had succeeded in forcing them to go back to school. Molly's sobbing had gotten so bad Arthur had to take her out back so that the meeting could start.

"Unfortunately, we aren't allowed time to mourn," Moody said from his spot at the head of the table. "You Know Who will probably strike again in the next few days."

"You really think that's possible?" asked Martha, who seemed more annoyed than somber in Tonks' opinion. But then again, the metamorphmagus had never really liked the other witch and this observation could have been unfair of the young Auror to make.

"Tonks, I want you to change into a hag and hang around Knockturn Alley," ordered Moody. "Snoop around and see if anyone's talking about any future plans or attacks."

"Gotcha," she said halfheartedly. As Moody gave commands to the rest of the Order, Tonks tuned everything out. Her mind involuntarily began to recall the horrors she had witnessed the day before.

**x**

**x**

Harry had no idea as to where he was. There was no sound whatsoever. He couldn't even hear himself breathing. Wherever he was, it was completely dark. So dark that he would not have been able to see his hand if he held it in front of his face.

He was isolated in this void for a very long time. No sound and no light. He was left alone in the darkness with nothing but his thoughts. Memories of Bellatrix's blade slicing through his skin, of Voldemort mocking his pain, the screams of Romilda as she was brutally raped, and the seven witches that Voldemort murdered right in front of his eyes plagued the young wizard's mind. With nothing to distract these memories, Harry's rage grew; it burned in his belly and began to eat away at him.

**x**

**x**

"All right men, listen up," the drill instructor shouted. Ron and his fellow recruits all snapped to attention in unison. "The Ministry needs our help. I know we have a few weeks left in your scheduled training, but after the tragedy of Hogwarts, the M. L. E. is severely undermanned. So, you are all being put into active service early."

Ron and his peers all shouted and cheered. Since the attack on Hogwarts a few days before, they were itching to join the fight against the Death Eaters.

"You lot will be assigned to your new posts within three days," the instructor announced. "Unfortunately, this accelerated advancement means there won't be a ceremony inducting you into active duty. There isn't enough time."

The red haired wizard was let down a bit. Ron had worked very hard over the last few weeks in his training. The ceremony was supposed to be something that he could've shown off to his family and Hermione. He was looking forward to seeing the proud look on Hermione's face as he marched with his fellow recruits in their M. L. E. dress robes.

But his drill instructor was right; the Ministry needed them right away. There was no time to waste on such frivolous things as a ceremony.

Ron decided to write Hermione. He had to tell her the good news. As he wrote his post, a sense of pride and excitement swelled inside him. He came to realize that going into active duty would make him a man. He'd be a man with a real job; one where he would be helping those in need and capturing criminals, bringing them to justice. But then Ron realized he wasn't a man yet, not fully. Not in the way that mattered the most. He remembered the way Hermione acted when he was with her before he went to training; how frigid and prudish she was. He had needs, urges. And Hermione was being a puritanical witch.

Ron took a calming breath. He remembered Ginny's assumption and how she ended up being right: Hermione was just overly afraid. Ron would have to ease her into the notion of sex. He had to be patient with Hermione simply because she was worth it.

He recalled a note that his sister had written him a week or two back. In it, she had given Ron some hints on how to approach Hermione about advancing their relationship to the proper stage. She suggested that he shouldn't be direct; he should just use subtle phrases that told Hermione how much he wanted her. Phrases such as_ "I want to look into your eyes", "I miss holding your hand",_ and "_I can't wait to talk to you and spend some time together alone."_

Ron decided to end his post with one of his sister's suggestions.

**x**

**x**

Hermione woke up in the spare bedroom in Susan and Daphne's flat. The brunette had spent so much time at her friends' place since the attack that she had unofficially moved in with them. She thought to herself that she really should start helping with the rent at this point.

After padding out of her room, Hermione put a warming charm on the pot of coffee. As the aroma of coffee filled the air, Hermione turned on the Wizarding Wireless. The announcer was reading a report from the_ Daily Prophet _about Godfrey and the new administration.

"Morning," Susan yawned as she staggered out of her room. She shuffled her feet toward the kitchen and fumbled around in the cupboards, looking for a mug. With another yawn, she poured herself some coffee.

"Daphne up yet?" asked Susan with her eyes still shut.

"Not yet," Hermione answered and she poured herself a cup of coffee.

"That witch sleeps like the dead," the red-haired witch commented in between yawns.

"You're one to talk. You're still asleep," Hermione said over her mug.

"Huh?" Susan mumbled.

A rapid tapping on the window drew Hermione's attention from her sleepy friend. She smiled when she saw Ron's owl, Pig, zooming around outside. It took her a moment to catch the hyper-active owl and retrieve the post attached to his leg.

The post read:

_"Dear Hermione,_

_We just got word that we'll be advancing to active duty in a few days, way ahead of schedule. The Ministry decided to put us to work straight away._

_I had been looking forward to the graduating ceremony to show you and my folks what a good job I've done. But I'm excited about hunting down the Death Eaters and protecting the good witches and wizards of the world._

_But what I truly look forward to is spending time with you alone. I miss the sound of your voice and looking into your eyes._

_Love,_

_Ron."_

Hermione smiled. She was very happy for Ron and proud of him as well. If anyone had asked her a few years ago if she thought that Ron had enough determination to join the M. L. E., she would've laughed. Ron was never the most committed wizard, some (including Hermione herself) would've argued that he was downright lazy. But that just went to show how much he cared for Harry. If Harry wasn't in trouble, Ron would've never gone through with the training and commitment. Ron was a good and loyal friend to Harry, she concluded.

The young witch also realized that Ron had been very patient with her. She knew he had wanted to go much further than they had and she had stopped him. Hermione still didn't want to have sex with him yet; something just didn't feel right inside. She told herself she wasn't ready. But to hold out completely would be wrong and mean.

"What's that?" Susan asked, eyeing the piece of parchment in Hermione's hands.

"A post from Ron," Hermione answered in a distracted fashion. Her mind was still lost in thought.

"What did he say?" Daphne asked as she strolled out of her room and joined the conversation.

"Good morning," Hermione greeted the black haired witch.

"Morning, now what did he say?" Daphne repeated, eager to hear about her friend's love life.

The black-haired witch took a chair next to Susan and the two witches listened intently as Hermione read the post aloud.

_"'I want to spend some time together alone'_?" Susan echoed.

"Looks like Ronnie-kins is looking for some touch," commented Daphne.

Hermione blushed and said: "Yes, but it seems like he isn't trying to force it."

"At least he's trying," Daphne added in between sips of coffee.

"I think he realizes that I want our first time to be something special," Hermione stated.

"He's been very patient," Susan said, smiling. Hermione looked over the kitchen table and saw that Daphne had the same smile on her face.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, just that we know what you're thinking," Daphne replied.

"You don't want to go all the way," Susan added. "But you're willing to go some of the way."

"You know, to show him how much you appreciate his patience and to reward him," Daphne concluded.

"It's not like that," Hermione said while blushing even more. "It's just we're a couple, and I do want to progress our relationship. I just want to do it slowly."

"Oh, we understand," Daphne stated.

"And we know exactly what you're talking about," Susan added.

"Hand-jobs," the two witches said almost in unison.

"It's dead simple," Susan stated.

"And blokes love it," concluded Daphne.

"Not as much as blowjobs though," the red-head added.

"Yeah, but Ron hasn't been that patient enough to earn that, yet," Daphne argued. "Besides, that's more advanced stuff. We need to ease our girl Hermione into such activities."

The three witches spent the next half hour discussing techniques and styles. Hermione was confident that she would be able to make Ron happy and fulfill his urges the next time she saw him.

**x**

**x**

Draco sat on the edge of his bed. He was frustrated beyond measure. He had tried making love to Pansy, but could not bring himself to arousal. He was more than willing; however his traitorous organ lay limply in between his thighs.

Pansy assumed that Draco would've been more than satisfied by the attack on the school and the ensuing ritual. From what she believed, Draco's lust for pain should've been quenched by all the death and suffering they had witnessed, both at the school and with the ritual when all those girls died and Potter disappeared. She and Draco should have been in the midst of a passionate coupling. But instead, Draco sat on the edge of the bed in a foul and disgruntled mood. They had started to be intimate, but Draco's body wasn't willing. Pansy had tried her best to stimulate her lover by doing acts in front and on him. None were successful. In desperation, Pansy even offered to let him paddle her backside. She had hoped that the idea of causing pain would invigorate Draco. But the blond wizard grunted a _"no"_ and began to dress.

"I'll be back," Draco murmured as he threw his robes on.

While he was distracted, Pansy discretely placed a Tracking Charm on him. The charm would guide her Apparition so that she would end up at the exact place that Draco Apparated to and she'd be able to follow him.

He kissed her on the lips quickly and walked out of their chambers. Pansy hopped out of bed and threw her robes on, leaving her Death Eater mask on the bedside table. She waited a full fifteen minutes before following the wizard she loved.

Draco arrived at his favorite spot with a soft cracking sound. He looked around for suitable playthings. Unfortunately the park appeared to be deserted. Then, a few moments after he arrived, he saw a number of men walking around the park. Each man was wearing the same uniform, blue trousers and jackets with hats that had some sort of badge on it, and they appeared to be looking for something or someone.

Draco knew if the men saw him that it would cause problems. It would be easy to deal with them, but Draco had to hunt. He wouldn't allow the Muggles to interrupt his fun.

The novice Death Eater cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself and slinked around in the shadows. He walked for four minutes until he saw a group of houses on the edge of the park. Slowly, he snuck up to the first house and peered in one of the windows. The people in the house were an elderly couple, and therefore did not interest Draco. But the next house he spied upon held his interest.

It was a family of six; mother, father, two boys, and two girls. Draco used simple charms to let him inside the house and in a blink of an eye, placed the entire family under the Imperius. He then cast Disillusionment Charms on each of the Muggles so those men in uniforms wouldn't see them as he led them back to his favorite spot.

Pansy arrived on the outskirts of a tree lined park. The charm she had placed on Draco told her that he was about forty feet away. She let the charm lead her to an area enclosed by a circle of oak trees. A quick diagnostic charm told Pansy that the trees were not natural. Obviously, Draco had created this ring of trees so that he could work undisturbed. Pansy walked up to one of the trees and cast a Transparency Charm, creating a one-way window through the tree, allowing her to watch undetected. Pansy's heart raced as she peered through the transparent circle in the tree trunk. This was her chance to see what turned her lover on.

Draco was trying something new, and it excited him. After magically binding the family to several trees he canceled the Imperius on all of the Muggles.

"What the bloody hell!" the father hollered.

"Oh Christ," the mother cursed. She was looking directly at Draco. Her eyes were full of terror and it made Draco's heart race even more. "It's him. The one the police are looking for!"

The two girls began whimpering while the boys stared at Draco in fear. The father took a calming breath and spoke as bravely as he could.

"Listen, I have money. Loads of it," he said. Draco smiled. The foolish man thought he could bribe him with Muggle money. "If you let my family go... I'll give it to you. As much as you want."

The blond Death Eater was beaming under his mask. Somehow, these Muggles knew what was about to happen and it terrified them. Draco was already becoming aroused by the family's fear of him. He could easily put the males under the Imperius and have them rape the females. But he hadn't wanted to simply bask in their fear and pain when he set out on this little expedition. No, Draco had theorized that control, and the power that comes with it, might just be the thing that turned him on so much. And he had planned this night's activities to see exactly how much it aroused him.

"Please, let my family go," the father pleaded again. The panic was starting to become evident in his voice. "I'll give you whatever you want."

"Whatever I want? How about some entertainment?" offered Draco. His dark tone warned the family of his intentions.

"Let our children go," the mother begged. "My husband and I will... entertain you. But please, let my babies go."

"You're far too old to keep my interest," Draco said, casually brushing the Muggle's request aside. As he spoke, Draco kept his eyes on the daughters. The older girl was pretty, for a Muggle, of around fifteen years old and had already developed large breasts. The other girl looked no older than thirteen and had not yet started to blossom. But her eyes captured Draco's attention. They were an intriguing blue color. More importantly, they were so full of fear. Draco continued to speak: "But I'm not completely heartless. If you satisfy me, I'll let you go."

The Muggle parents looked at their daughters with dread. They knew what Draco had in mind.

"You fucking bast-!" the father began to shout at Draco. His curse rapidly turned into a god-awful scream when Draco placed the Cruciatus on the man.

The Muggle family looked between their masked attacker and their father and husband in shock and disbelief. The man was in so much pain he had loosed his bowels and soiled himself. The family had no idea how the masked man was doing this; all he did was shout a strange word as he pointed a stick at their father.

After a moment, Draco lifted the curse. The Muggle vomited on himself and began to gasp and pant.

"Do not be mistaken. I can make you suffer more than you can imagine with just one word," Draco threatened. "Please me, and I will let you go. You can go on with your pathetic, useless lives. Disappoint me, and I will have you begging for a merciful death in mere seconds."

"To hell with you," the father said defiantly. "Let him do his worst, kids. He can hurt me as much as he wants. The police are patrolling the park. Once they hear my screams, they'll come running and save us."

Draco snickered at the man. The Muggle had no idea Draco had placed several Silencing Charms around the trees. Even if the police were standing right outside the ring of trees, they would not hear him. The man also thought he could stand up to the Cruciatus Curse on him. Draco knew that the Muggle would crack in minutes. A sinister thought came to the Death Eater however; he could have the Muggle father begging Draco to do anything he wanted in just a few seconds instead of a few minutes.

Draco walked up to the youngest boy. He had sandy blond hair and looked like he was still learning how to count to one hundred. Draco gently placed the tip of his wand against the boy's cheek and looked directly at the defiant father.

_"Crucio!"_

The boy's screams filled the air and the rest of the family began to cry out instantly.

"Please stop!"

"No more!"

"We'll do anything!"

It was so simple. All Draco had to do was hurt the youngest one, and the rest of the Muggles would do whatever he wished. He lifted the curse and the little boy slumped against the invisible ropes that held him to the tree and wept.

Pansy watched with rapt attention. Even though she could not hear what they were saying, it was clear that the Muggles now understood Draco was their superior. Her lover was toying with the Muggles expertly. The witch took pride in his development.

"You will not question me," Draco demanded. "You will not hesitate when I give you an instruction. If you do, the boy will suffer. Do you understand?"

The family nodded their head in defeat. Draco's organ sprang to life as he walked up to the older boy. He pulled a vial out from his robes and held it in front of the boy.

"Drink this," Draco commanded after releasing the Muggle. The wizard had gotten the idea after he saw the Dark Lord using the same potion on Potter.

The sixteen year old boy took the vial and hesitated. Draco could see that the Muggle wanted to jump him and beat him to a pulp. The Death Eater quelled the boy's defiance by pointing his wand at the youngest child once again. The Muggle drank the potion down.

Draco released the older daughter and waited for the potion to take effect. When the boy's eyes went wide in shock, Draco knew that the potion was working. Right now, the boy's organ was swelling to a full erection in his trousers.

"Aren't you feeling a little confined?" Draco asked mockingly. The blond Death Eater turned to the fifteen year old girl and pointed to the slab. "Get on that and lay on your back."

The two teens acted out Draco's sick fantasy. The Death Eater only had to put the youngest boy under the Cruciatus once to get the older brother and sister to do as he wished. The power he held over these Muggles made Draco's head spin and his manhood ache.

Outside the ring of trees, Pansy smiled. Even through his mask, Pansy could tell that her lover was enthralled and fully aroused. She thought that she had discovered how to please her wizard. The next time she and Draco would be intimate, she would bring in a pair of Muggles and force them to rape each other while she and Draco made love.

Inside the ring of trees, the older Muggle boy sobbed pathetically and stopped moving. The girl let out a sad and piercing cry of pain and shame.

Draco was aching. Unlike the times before when he had used the Imperius, he hadn't climaxed. He stood there with his manhood throbbing and begging for release. For a moment, the Death Eater considered reaching into his own trousers to pleasure himself. But a wicked thought came to him. The family's suffering was making him proud to be alive. This new thought would only increase that suffering and therefore his enjoyment.

Draco waved his wand at the two teens on the slab and invisible ropes bound them to the table. He then waved his wand at the youngest girl and freed her. Her parents immediately began screaming.

"Don't you touch her!"

"Please, leave her alone!"

Draco ignored the Muggles' threats and pleas and walked up to the thirteen year old. The girl shivered in fear.

"You said that you'd let us go," the girl whimpered.

"I said I'd let you go if I was entertained," Draco said lightly. "Your brother and sister were merely the opening act."

Pansy watched with eager anticipation. Draco was going to torture the youngest girl as her family watched. She remembered when Draco was afraid of his own shadow only a handful of weeks before. She took pride in his current actions at how good of a Death Eater he had become.

"Get on your knees," Draco commanded the young girl.

The family was begging Draco not to do what he was about to do. But it was as if they were far away and he could barely hear their voices. All that he heard was the girl's pathetic mewling.

"Please, Mister," the girl pleaded.

"Do you want me to hurt your little brother?" Draco asked and the girl shook her head. "How about your parents, do you want them to be in pain?"

Again, the girl shook her head. Great globs of tears poured down her cheeks.

"Then get on your knees," Draco repeated.

With a sob, the girl knelt down and the Death Eater threw his robes open.

It was so disturbing and taboo what Draco had forced the filthy Muggle to do. But at the same time, it was exciting and exhilarating. To do something so dirty and forbidden made Draco's head become light.

The entire time Draco abused the girl her family begged and threatened him. The mother sobbed and pleaded hysterically to leave her daughter alone while the father hurled obscenities at Draco. The older daughter even offered herself to him in hopes of freeing her sister from the violation. The young girl's feeble and fumbling attempts to satisfy him did little for Draco, it was her family's impotent pleas and threats that fed the Death Eater's arousal. He was in control; and _that_ was what thrilled him.

Pansy felt like vomiting. Draco made that foul Muggle touch him. He befouled himself with that dirty sub-human whore. She reeled away from her magical peephole in the trees. Staggering backwards, her mind was plagued with the images she had just witnessed. She knew Draco had become aroused at the sight of the brother raping his sister. But she had assumed that Draco was enthralled by their pain. That was a completely natural reaction; she herself often became aroused during a good Muggle hunt. But then Draco used that girl to pleasure himself! He had put his penis into a Muggle's mouth. A Muggle was nothing more than a lowly, dirty animal; Draco had just performed an act akin to bestiality in Pansy's mind. Had he done this before? Pansy couldn't help but wonder if Draco had put his manhood into a dirty Muggle only to come back to their bed and proceed to put his defiled penis into her. Had a Muggle's filthy fluid been on his organ as he shagged her? Had Draco's actions led to Pansy becoming sullied as well? The thought of such a thing made her feel sick and contaminated.

She continued to stumble away from the ring of trees and the disgusting acts hidden inside when a voice halted her.

"What are you doing here, miss?"

Pansy turned to see a Muggle law enforcement officer. He wore a silly hat that had a badge on it.

"You shouldn't be out here, miss," he warned. "It's dangerous. There's a killer on the loose."

The Muggle officer stopped speaking and looked over Pansy's shoulder at the ring of trees.

"Wait, that wasn't there before," he said and pushed past the black haired witch. He walked up and saw the hole in the tree Pansy had been looking through. He bent down and peered into this hole.

"Bloody hell!" he cursed. Pansy saw the Muggle grab a small black box that was attached to his shoulder. The Muggle then pressed a button on the side of the box and began to speak very rapidly into it. "Alert! Alert! I have spotted the suspect fifteen meters east of the drinking fountain in sector five. Repeat: I have spotted the suspect fifteen meters east of the drinking fountain in sector five."

An obnoxious squawking noise came from the box and was preceded by a scratchy and distorted voice. _"All units converge on sector five. All units converge on sector five!"_

"Alright miss, don't worry. Help's on the way," the Muggle told Pansy, walking up to her. He was about to usher her away from the scene for her own safety. But Pansy was not Draco; she would never allow a Muggle to touch her, even if it was just her arm. She pulled out her wand and pointed it in the Muggle's face.

"What's that you've got there?" he asked.

_"Avada Kedavra!" _she shouted and the Muggle's corpse fell to the earth. Pansy glowered at the ring of trees once more before Apparating away.

Draco waved his wand over his organ and magically cleansed himself. He turned to the girl who was still on her knees and pointed his wand at her neck. He smiled at her before muttering the incantation for the Sectumsempra. Her blood erupted from her neck and coated his robes.

The father screamed and the mother began to hyperventilate as Draco moved to the little boy. He repeated the curse.

The police division assigned to patrolling the park ran toward the area designated sector five. They had been ordered to guard the park and look for the serial killer who had been using it to kill his victims. For days there had been no activity. But then Constable Helms made the call that he located the suspect.

It only took them a few moments to reach the area Helms described. When they got there, they found Helms lying dead near a ring of trees.

"Call a medic, now," the superior officer, Lawrence Henderson, called out as he checked Helms for vitals.

"Sir, I was here an hour ago with Helms and I didn't see these trees," one officer stated as he inspected the unusual formation.

"What do you mean," another officer said. "Trees don't just magically pop up!'

Inside the ring of trees, the Muggle father glowered at Draco hatefully. His entire family was dead and if the man could have moved, he would have torn Draco's throat out. The man sobbed pathetically as he struggled impotently against the invisible bindings holding him in place.

"Thank you very much for such an entertaining evening," Draco mocked a second before he magically ripped the man's neck open.

The blond Death Eater sighed happily. The night's events recharged him. All he wanted to do was head back to his bed and show Pansy just how revitalized he was.

With a wave of his wand, Draco transfigured the slab back into a pebble and changed the trees back into twigs. He was quite surprised to see a number of Muggles in uniform standing just a few feet away.

"Bloody Hell," one officer muttered.

Henderson forced back his shock and surprise caused by the trees vanishing right before his eyes. The thing that drew his attention from the now missing trees was the sight of six bodies lying around a figure in black robes and a white mask.

"Get him!" Henderson commanded.

Two officers lunged at the suspect. One fell to the ground when the masked suspect shouted two words. Henderson could've sworn he saw a flash of green light before his man fell. The second officer was able to grab the suspect around his left arm.

The other officers began to move toward the target when the suspect pointed a stick at the officer holding him and said something that sounded like Latin or some form of Arabic. The officer fell to the ground screaming and convulsing.

Then the suspect disappeared with a pop right before their eyes. The twelve officers who were left standing looked at each other in disbelief.

**x**

**x**

It had been an eternity since he was left in this void; an eternity of utter blackness and silence. Harry started to wonder if he was in hell being punished for not saving Romilda and the other girls or some other sin he may have committed.

'If only I had my strength and my wand back,' he thought sadly as he went over the memories of the witches' senseless murders. 'Then I could've saved them.'

'And how would you have done that?' a cruel voice in his head asked.

'I would've stunned Voldemort and his Death Eaters,' Harry replied. 'Then I would've gotten the girls out of there.'

'Good fucking plan, Potter,' the voice ridiculed. 'I can see you taking out that shit Malfoy, his slut Parkinson, and maybe the other two goons but what about Lestrange or even Voldemort? Could you've taken either one of them down with a fucking stunner? Do you think you could've stunned two of the most skilled duelists in the world?'

'I could've gotten lucky,' Harry countered. 'I could've caught them off guard.'

'Bullshit,' the voice shot back. 'Even if you did get lucky and stunned the whore and the snake, there would've be no way in hell you'd have been able to get the other four before they could Rennervate their fucking master. Then you'd have to deal with Voldemort again. Would you have been lucky a second time? Do you really think that could've happened?'

'Then I would've tried something different,' Harry shot back.

'Oh, really, perhaps you'd use an ineffectual Cruciatus Curse like you did on Bellatrix and Snape?' the voice asked in a mocking manner. 'I know: maybe you were hoping someone would swoop in and save you at the last second.'

'Shut up,' Harry commanded.

'Okay, let's say you were miraculously able to subdue the room full of enemies with simple stunners and that you escaped with the girls, despite the fact you couldn't even stand on your own, much less walk,' the voice continued in a derisive way. 'What would've happen when Voldemort woke up? He would've hunted you down and killed those girls right in front of you, just like he had planned from the start.'

Harry remained silent. The voice was right. Even if he could have somehow miraculously escaped, Voldemort would have tracked him down.

'What you should have done is hit them with Reductos. Blow the worthless shits to bits,' the voice suggested. 'Start off by blowing Voldemort's face into vapor. Then hit that cunt, Bellatrix, right in the chest and watch bits of her lungs and heart speckle the walls.'

Interestingly, that thought didn't seem deplorable to Harry. He had come to the realization that he was prophesied to kill Voldemort and would have to do it one day. Also, Bellatrix was an evil bitch who deserved to die. The notion of killing either one seemed righteous and noble.

'Then you should've blown those two big Death Eaters balls off – the ones who manhandled Romilda,' the voice continued. 'And then you should've killed Draco right before offing Pansy.'

Harry balked at that thought. He doubted that he would've hesitated in killing the two unknown Death Eaters for what they did to Romilda. But he knew that it would've been difficult to even knowingly cause pain to Draco and Pansy. After all, everyone deserved a second chance.

'Oh come off of it,' the voice snapped at Harry's hesitation. 'They're fucking Death Eaters! They rape, pillage, and murder for a ridiculous, bigoted cause. They don't deserve a second chance. They deserve to die for their actions.'

'I don't know that for sure,' Harry defended. 'I know Draco and Pansy are novices. They may not have killed anyone yet.'

'They watched as those two Death Eaters drove Romilda on you until she was torn and ripped up inside. That's what they did,' the voice pointed out. They sat on the sidelines and watched as two goons used you as a tool to rape an innocent girl! All of them deserve to die!'

'Pansy and Draco could've been too scared to help,' Harry argued. He was desperately trying to find some good in the former Slytherins.

'Were they more scared than Romilda as her vagina was being ripped apart?' the voice asked. 'Were they more terrified than the girls were when their throats were being cut open? They watched and did nothing. They didn't raise a finger to help as those girls got slaughtered! For all you know, they might've liked it!'

'I don't know that,' Harry snapped.

'You are Dumbledore's man, aren't you?' the voice stated. 'You try to find the best in everyone. Give them a second chance, just like the old man. Let me remind you of something; Dumbledore gave Snape a second chance. And what did Snape do with that chance? He killed Dumbledore while the old man begged for mercy!'

An image flashed in Harry's mind of that night on the Astronomy Tower. The hatred in Snape's face as Dumbledore pleaded with him burned in his thoughts.

'Draco and Pansy don't deserve a fucking second chance,' the voice stated flatly. 'They allowed innocents to die in front of them. Hell, Pansy laughed at one of the girls as she begged. They need to be punished.'

Harry remained silent as he pondered on what the voice said. The idea of killing someone just because they did not act was abhorrent to Harry. But a part of him slowly began to accept it. And it frightened Harry.

**x**

**x**

The first thing Hermione saw as she entered her tiny office was a report laying on her desk. She picked it up and noticed the _"Urgent"_ warning on the top. She quickly opened it and gasped at what she saw. It was a report detailing a Death Eater attack where a Muggle family was raped and murdered along with two constables. Several officers attempted to apprehend the Death Eater, but the suspect Apparated away.

Just as Hermione finished reading the report, Martha walked into the office.

"Martha, we need a team of Obliviators straight away," she said. "We have to adjust the memories of a number of Muggle police officers."

"Not going to happen," Martha said with certainty.

"But these officers saw a Death Eater. He used a Killing Curse on two of them."

"I can tell you've been caught up that little report and haven't noticed your surroundings Granger, so I'll fill you in" Martha said snidely. "The Ministry is restructuring. They have decided to cut back on unnecessary things, such as Muggle Relations, in order to better protect our citizens. You and I are the only people still assigned to this department. Your former co-workers were reassigned to the M. L. E. last night, along with a majority of the Obliviators."

"Fine," Hermione snapped and she held up the report. "Let me grab one of the remaining Obliviators and try to fix this."

Hermione was confused as to why the Ministry had made such a decision. But whatever the reason was, it was not important at that moment. Hermione knew they had to quell the problem of the surviving police officers and their reports as soon as possible.

"That's not procedure, Granger," the elder witch stated. "There are at least ten other reports we have to deal with first."

Martha picked up one of the other reports from Hermione's desk and handed it to her. The brunette witch thumbed through the report rapidly.

"You must be joking. This report is about a seventy five year old man observing a wizard riding a broomstick," Hermione said in disgust. She tossed the ridiculous report on the ground and picked the urgent one up. "One elderly person seeing a wizard on a broom is not as important as twelve trained police officers witnessing a Death Eater attack."

"The old Muggle seeing a wizard flying came in first. Therefore we have to deal with it first," Martha said. "It's procedure."

Hermione was about to voice her disagreement, when Martha cut her off.

"Listen, I'll take care of this personally," the witch said in a firm tone, snatching out of Hermione's hands the report on the Muggle police situation. "You'll take care of the elderly Muggle who saw the wizard on the broom."

**x**

**x**

Pansy stomped into Bellatrix's chambers. She was in a foul temper and she needed the older witch's advice.

"What is it, Pansy?" Bellatrix asked, annoyed at the intrusion.

"It's Draco," she replied. "He did something disgusting."

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. She was in no mood to deal with the petty squabbles of her nephew and his girlfriend.

"He… he used a Muggle on his last hunt," Pansy announced. The bile crept up her throat as the scene she had witnessed replayed in her mind's eye. "I saw him do it."

"Good for him," Bellatrix stated, her apathy evident in the way she spoke.

"No, you don't understand," said Pansy. She was positive Bellatrix didn't comprehend the issue. For if she did know, she would be calling for Draco's head on a pike.

"Yes, I do know what you mean, you pretentious little girl," Bellatrix snapped. The girl dared to question her intelligence and it aggravated her further. "He violated a Muggle."

"Wh-what?" Pansy stammered and recoiled. She was positive Draco's act would be scandalous, if not treasonous. But Bellatrix's reaction was offhand at best. "How can you say it like that means nothing?"

"Because it _does_ mean nothing," Bellatrix said. Her patience had already worn out. "When a wizard goes on a hunt, like Draco did, they tend to get aroused. It's only natural for him to act on this. Besides, a Muggle is a lower creature and treating them in such a fashion helps put them in their place."

Pansy stared at the senior Death Eater with a mixture of disbelief and disgust as she spoke; "You wouldn't say that if you saw the wizard you love doing what I saw Draco do!"

"Again, you assume too much, silly girl," Bellatrix said with a lofty smile. "Like a good wife, I've held down Muggles as Rodolphus violated them. It was pleasing to see the Muggles' suffering combined with the happiness it gave Rodolphus.

"If you weren't such a stuck up little twat, you would've given Draco a hand. For example; squeezing the Muggle's titties as he wanked off on them or spreading their cheeks to give your lover access to the Muggle's anus," Bella finished with a cackle.

Pansy felt as if she was going to throw up. She needed to get out of the room, to get fresh air or she'd vomit. But she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of Bellatrix as she stumbled to the door. Not only was the witch was proud of the fact her husband had cheated on her with filthy Muggles, but she was more than willing to help out. And she was recommending that Pansy do the same with Draco.

Bellatrix chuckled at Pansy's discomfort. If the girl wanted to be a proper Death Eater and serve their Lord, she would have to get over such trivial things.

**x**

**x**

Scotland Yard was buzzing. A serial murderer was on the loose, and they now had at least a start of a description of him. Although the suspect wore some sort of costume, it was something to go on.

But one aspect of the case was peculiar. A dozen officers claimed they witnessed three unbelievable events. First, a group of large mature trees disappeared into thin air. Second, the suspect subdued one officer and killed two others without a weapon. The cause of death for the two officers had not yet to be determined. But the strangest part of the report was that the suspect vanished just as the trees had: like magic.

Chief Inspector Reginald Cox was perplexed. When he saw the artist rendition of the suspect's costume and mask, and had read the officers' reports, he knew exactly what had happened. The officers in question had stumbled upon a Death Eater. The survivors were lucky to be alive.

Cox's mother and father were Squibs and he grew up hearing tales of the Wizarding world. In the late seventies, while he was still at university, he had met a distant cousin who was a witch. She told him horrifying stories about a group of terrorists called Death Eaters. When he asked her why he hadn't heard of these attacks, she told him about the Ministry of Magic and their Obliviators, wizards and witches who would magically adjust peoples' memories. This group would swoop in and change peoples' recollections before any reports were made. His cousin told him that it was for the best, that their two worlds, the mundane and magical world, should remain separate.

But what was bothering Cox about this most recent attack was that the Obliviators hadn't acted yet. His supervisors were sending out their best forensic personnel to figure out what happened. If the Obliviators didn't act soon, then there could be a chance the mundane world would discover the magical one.

**x**

**x**

When Friday came, Hermione received another post from Ron. He had just been assigned to Southampton and had a free night on Saturday. Hermione had planned to spend Saturday night in the Ministry with Susan and Daphne; the three witches were planning on reading through the reports for clues to Harry's whereabouts or Voldemort's base. But she reminded herself she was Ron's girlfriend and they needed some time together, especially after such a long time apart. Daphne and Susan gave Hermione their blessing, so the brunette witch decided to spend the evening with Ron.

She met him at the Burrow where his family had made a feast in congratulating their son on his achievement. Molly gushed at how proud she was of Ron. After a bit, the conversation turned from Ron's accomplishment.

"I think Mad-Eye is completely off his rocker," Molly commented.

"He's just being cautious, dear," Arthur returned kindly.

"What's Mad-Eye up to now?" asked Ron.

"Oh, he's positive that the Death Eaters will attack a Pro-Muggle rally being held in Diagon Alley tomorrow," explained Molly.

'There's a Pro-Muggle rally?" asked Hermione.

"You didn't know?" a surprised Ginny asked. "I thought something like that would be right up your alley."

"I've just been so busy at work that I hadn't heard about it," answered Hermione.

"Moody's just being paranoid like he always is," Molly continued.

"I don't think so," Arthur challenged. "He's heard some rumors floating about Knockturn Alley. They say a number of Death Eaters are gearing up for a big attack."

"And do you think it will happen at this rally?" asked Ron.

"It makes sense. A Pro-Muggle rally stands for a number of things that Death Eaters are opposed to," offered Hermione.

"So what's the problem?" Ginny inquired.

"The problem is that Moody wants every member of the Order to act as security," Molly said. "The rally will have plenty of protection. Not only will there be guards stationed at key points, there'll be plain clothes officers milling about in the crowd. There won't be a need to have the Order there."

"I think it will be needed," Arthur countered politely. "With all those people, it could easily turn into a massacre. Besides, you were all for it until Martha Patterson tried to argue that it would be unnecessary. That witch can be a real pain sometimes."

Hermione almost openly agreed with Mr. Weasley's assessment of Martha. She knew first hand how much of a pain her boss, Martha, could be. But they young witch didn't want to get into a discussion over her boss' failings.

"You may be right. A little extra protection might be a good thing," admitted Molly. She then looked at Ron and said, "My goodness, you're wasting away. Did they not feed you at training?"

While Molly scooped another serving onto Ron's plate, Ginny began a quiet conversation with Hermione.

"Has Ron been pressuring you?"

"No, I think he realized his mistake," Hermione replied. "He was really apologetic and understanding in his letters."

"That's good. I hate it when blokes pressure witches," Ginny said. Hermione saw that the younger witch's eyes were full of anger and sadness. It was clear that Ginny was still torn up over what Dean had forced her to do.

"Promise me that you'll take it slow," Ginny pleaded. "Even if Ron slips up again and pushes you."

"Of course," Hermione said. "I'm the one who sets the pace. I'm taking it slow, real slow. And Ron's been very accepting, so I'll give him a little present... a reward if you will."

"I'm glad that you're in control, but I'm afraid he'll try and force you to do more than you're willing to do," the younger witch stated.

"Don't worry. I've got the situation in _hand_," Hermione said knowingly and wiggled her fingers.

"Good. I don't want to see you go through what I had to," Ginny said. Hermione patted the red haired witch on the shoulder and they returned to their meals.

After dinner, everyone was surprised that Ron offered to clean the table. Arthur made a joking comment that the M. L. E. training camp must've instilled manners in his son.

As Ron began picking up the plates, Ginny announced: "I'll help too. You three just relax," she said to Molly, Arthur and Hermione.

When the siblings left the room, Arthur asked Hermione: "So what do you think about these new changes in the government?"

"I think they're awful," Hermione admitted.

"It's horrible how we've abandoned the Muggles," Molly lamented.

In the privacy of the kitchen, Ginny brought up a familiar subject with Ron.

"I think she might give in a little tonight," Ginny said. "But just a little though, maybe a hand-job. I don't think she's ready to go down on you, yet."

"I swear I'll go barmy if all she gives me is a hand-job," he said bitterly. "I've waited long enough, damn it. I deserve a blow-job at least."

"Easy, Ron," his sister said soothingly. "I've been working on her but there's this wall when it comes to being affectionate for some reason. I'm starting to think that she's acting this way for some other reason besides being prudish or frightened."

"Damn it," Ron cursed.

"Don't worry about it Ron," Ginny patted her brother on the back. "Who knows, maybe once she has your cock in her hands, she might just loosen up."

"What if she doesn't?" he asked.

"Give her time."

"All I've been doing is giving her time," Ron seethed. "All the other blokes in my class bragged about how their witches were going to shag them rotten when they got back from training. But all I have to hope for is a lousy hand-job."

"Listen, I'll talk to her some more," Ginny said. "Like I said, there seems to be another reason why she's hesitating so much."

"Like what?" Ron snapped bitterly.

"I don't know," Ginny said with a shrug. "The last few times she's told me that she's afraid, I've gotten the impression she's lying about that."

"You mean she isn't afraid?"

"Yes, but that doesn't explain why she won't go the distance with you," Ginny said. She patted her brother on the arm again and said, "I'll pry a little more; see if I can find out the real reason she won't touch you."

Ron smiled at Ginny. She was being a real help in this situation with Hermione. Maybe with his first paycheck, he'd buy his sister something nice as a _"thank you"_ present.

After everything was cleaned up, Hermione and Ron took a walk behind the Burrow. They didn't speak much, and when they did it was about trivial and inconsequential things. A few minutes later, Hermione decided it was time to move their relationship forward.

She leaned into him and kissed his lips. His tongue pressed up against her lips, demanding entrance. She acquiesced, and Ron shoved his tongue into her mouth. His tongue pushed and mashed her tongue around. She felt a little queasy but she told herself that it was just nerves and she ignored the sensation.

A moment later, the couple was leaning against a tree. Ron reached up and grabbed hold of her breast. Hermione fought the urge to knock his hand away. He had been patient with her and she figured she needed to loosen up a bit. She groaned in pain when his fingers slightly dug in her tender flesh. She was certain that she'd have welts, if not a bruise, in the morning.

Slowly, they slid onto the ground as they continued to kiss. Ron felt as if he was on fire. His penis was already hard. Unconsciously, Ron pushed his hips into her, pressing his erection against her belly. He rubbed his hard organ on her, silently pleading for affection.

Hermione pulled away from Ron. On top of the erection pressing into her belly, Hermione saw that his lips were red and puffy and she knew that he was enjoying himself. The fact that her lips weren't tingling didn't bother her. She just told herself that she was still nervous, and therefore wasn't fully enjoying the moment like her boyfriend had.

"Lean back," she requested, and Ron rested against the tree. Her small hands opened his trousers. A slight aroma of old sweat mixed with a touch of urine wafted up into her nose. She was a little embarrassed to spit in her own hand, but Daphne and Susan had told her it would be necessary.

Ron groaned as Hermione took him in her hand. She massaged his shaft gently and rhythmically. He was hoping for her mouth to be on his organ, but he would settle for her hand, for now. A short while later, Ron grunted as he ejaculated; his seed dribbled down over the back of Hermione's hand.

"Thanks. That was brilliant," Ron said with a somewhat pleased smile. He wasn't completely satisfied, but it was far more than she had ever done before. He wanted to show that he was appreciative of the gesture, even if he felt it was lacking on her part.

"You're welcome," Hermione said and she rubbed her hand in the grass and dirt to get his sticky mess off.

**x**

**x**

'You're right,' Harry thought. He had been contemplating what the voice had said. Even though Pansy and Draco didn't harm those girls directly, they watched. If they had felt the slightest bit of compassion for the girls, they would've at least tried to plead for mercy. But neither did. They allowed those innocent girls to be murdered viciously. They needed to be punished and Harry found himself longing to be the one that would punish them.

**x**

**x**

Voldemort folded the message. His spy had warned of the extra security at the rally as well as the Order acting as guards. Voldemort only planned for a small strike team, but now he was forced to reformulate his plan if not drop it all together.

As well as the warning, his spy had also requested something from him in order to ruin Potter's Mudblood friend. The spy was finally going through with the Dark Lord's devious and sadistic plan. For the plan to work, he needed at least four of his minions to entertain themselves in a specific manner with some Muggle women.

"Daly, Winfield, Hurd, Tulliver," the Dark Lord called out to four of the ten Death Eaters guarding his chambers. His minions quickly rushed up and knelt before him.

"I have a task for you," he ordered. "Each of you; go out and fetch a Muggle woman, attractive ones, and bring them back here."

"Yes Master," Hurd said excitedly.

"But do not harm them," the Dark Lord added. "Put them under the Imperius. I need you to use them and put on a little show for a special ally."

**x**

**x**

In her cramped office, Hermione shuffled through numerous reports in a foul mood. When she had heard about the Pro-Muggle rally, she had every intention of going to show her support for such a worthy cause. But her supervisor, Martha, had outright refused the young witch's request for the needed afternoon off in order to attend the rally.

"This isn't a holiday, Granger, this is your job," Martha had said harshly. "You can't just come and go as you please."

As Hermione filed reports, she wondered what she could've possibly done to have Martha treat her so poorly.

**x**

**x**

"I thought Hermione would be here," commented Remus as he strolled with Tonks through the sparsely crowded rally. The turnout for the Pro-Muggle event had fallen well below expectations. Both the Ministry and Order had planned on a large gathering. But after several hours, only a few dozen people had shown.

"I'm going to say that Martha was a bitch, as usual, and forced Hermione to stay at work," Tonks said with thinly veiled bitterness. A few short seconds later, the witch in question walked up to the couple.

"Oh, we were just talking about you, Martha," Tonks greeted with a level of fake sweetness that told Martha that the conversation concerning her had not been glowing.

"I'm certain you were," she returned dryly, obviously not caring what her fellow Order members said or thought about her. As Martha scanned the thinly populated crowd, she commented; "I told you this would be a waste of time. There was no point in the Order being here."

Before Remus could counter, Martha stomped off.

"What a bitch," groaned Tonks while the other witch was still within earshot. "You'd think she was put out trying to help save lives."

Martha spun around and snapped; "If you haven't noticed the lives here don't need to be saved. Anyone with half a brain could tell you that You Know Who wouldn't have bothered with such a small target."

In response to Martha's argument, Tonks offered a two-fingered salute. The older witch gave the pink haired Auror a scathing look before walking away.

"Why on Earth did we allow her to join the Order?" asked Tonks.

"I wonder that myself sometimes," added Remus.

A clomping footfall sounded as Moody walked up to Remus and Tonks. "She became a member because we were desperate for numbers," he answered Tonks' question. As he continued to walk, he ordered; "Just because the Death Eaters haven't attacked doesn't mean they won't. So keep an eye out."

The old wizard lurched by them and Tonks saw something odd that she had never seen before; an old, mustard-yellow woolen sock was half hanging out of Moody's robe pocket.

"What's that?" Tonks asked while pointing to the garment.

"It's a sock," grumbled Moody in response as he pushed it deeper into his pocket.

"I can tell it's a sock, you old coot," Tonks jibbed playfully. "I was wondering why you had it in your pocket."

Moody stopped moving and his normal eye seemed to weigh Tonks for a moment. He moved to her and whispered; "It's a Portkey."

"You keep a Portkey in your pocket?" she asked. "Shouldn't you have been whisked away to Merlin knows where when you touched it?"

"No, I've got a Thin Wrap Charm around it," he informed her. A Thin Wrap Charm was usually used to wrap food so dirt, bugs, and whatnot couldn't touch it. Tonks' father, a Muggle-born, had often equated it to something called "plastic wrap."

Moody continued; "I rigged it so that when I take the sock in both hands and tug on it in two directions, the Thin Wrap Charm will drop and then I'll touch the Portkey and thereby activate it. I keep it on me so that if I ever walk into a place where I'm outnumbered and there's an Anti-Apparation Ward up I have an escape route. I'm telling you this so that you'll start practicing it. You'll never know when someone in our position will need it."

"Blimey man, do you have a plan for every conceivable scenario?" Tonks asked.

"Yes I do. Constant Vigilance!" With that, Moody hobbled away and barked once more, "Keep an eye out!"

**To be continued…**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Seven

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

**x**

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**x**

There was something in the darkness, a presence. It had started out as a mere sensation at first, barely a feeling. So Harry had paid it no attention. Then slowly it grew; as if the nebulous thing was gaining power. He could now feel the thing, whatever it was. It had grown from a weak sensation into something akin to a physical form lurking in the darkness. Pacing back and forth, like a caged animal.

For some unknown reason, Harry could sense what the alien thing was feeling. It was full of lust, hatred, and anger. Its emotions were so powerful it was almost as if its feelings were tactile and Harry could feel the thing's emotions on his skin. But these negative emotions weren't directed at Harry; nor were they focused at anything in particular, as far as he could discern. The presence was just brimming with these unsettling feelings. The thing's entire essence was made up of lust and rage.

**x**

**x**

"So what are your plans for tonight?" Daphne asked both of her friends as they walked through the lobby of the Ministry.

"Well Carl and I are going out dancing," Susan said with a bloom in her cheeks.

"I brought home some records from the first war, and Ginny supplied me with last week's reports from the emergency floo-center," Hermione replied, lugging said files in her arms. "I'm hoping to find if there were any references to safe houses or hideouts used by Death Eaters during the first war; to see if there is any activity around those areas now. Even if they're not in use anymore, maybe there'll be some clues as to the types of places or locations Voldemort and his minions like to use."

"Aren't you doing anything with Ron?" Susan asked.

"What?" Hermione asked in a distracted way. Then a half second later, she replied; "Oh, _Ron_; no. He's on duty tonight. So I figured that I'd spend my time off looking for Harry."

"Mind if I join you," Daphne requested.

"The more, the merrier," Hermione said, and then turning to Susan said, "You have fun with Carl tonight."

"And don't let him stick his willy up your bum," Daphne added. "That's just gross."

"I keep telling you: that entry's only used for special occasions," Susan retorted. She paused and got a thoughtful and coy expression on her face. "Come to think of it, this is our half year anniversary or so... _That's_ special, isn't it?"

"You're such a naughty witch," Hermione said with a chuckle, allowing Susan's attempt at lifting her spirits to work.

**x**

**x**

The M. L. E. briefing room was packed tight; officers stood shoulder to shoulder jammed together like sardines in a can, waiting for the day's assignment. From behind his podium at the front of the room, the staff sergeant read aloud from the duty roster.

Ron waited patiently. He was pressed in-between his two partners, Stevens and Bagshot, and listened for his name to be called out. He was hoping for something more than his usual assignment of patrolling Diagon Alley with twenty other officers. That had gotten boring.

"Bagshot, Stevens, and Weasley," the sergeant barked and Ron straightened, eagerly awaiting his orders. "You three are doing something new today."

Ron didn't dare let his hopes rise; a part of him knew that his sergeant was going to say something along the lines of _"Instead of Diagon Alley, you'll be patrolling Ottery St. Catchpole." _But Ron was pleasantly surprised.

The sergeant held up a magical photo of a pinched looking wizard with wide, brown eyes and said, "You three are in charge of rounding up this bloke, Winchester Wobleton, a suspected Death Eater sympathizer. There've been reports that he's been acting suspiciously, leaving his flat at odd hours, carrying unknown packages into his residence, glowering at his neighbors, and whatnot. Pick him up and bring him in for questioning."

Ron felt like cheering; an actual assignment, not just patrolling. He had gotten the chance to actively prevent crime and stop dark magic users with this assignment. If he was lucky, maybe this Wobleton wizard was actually a Death Eater, not just a sympathizer, and could give Ron a clue about Harry; maybe the suspicious packages contained some insight as to his friend's location.

**x**

**x**

Another free night, but this time Ron was off-duty as well. Hermione felt bad about not spending time with her boyfriend and decided to schedule some special couple-time. Hermione's parents would be gone out for the night so she decided to use the free house to her advantage, rather than impose on her flatmates. Now all she had to do was think of a properly romantic menu for her dinner date with Ron.

**x**

**x**

"Listen up," Macnair called out to the dozen Death Eaters standing in the entrance hall. "The Dark Lord wants to test the Ministry's new policy concerning Muggles. We will launch a two pronged attack. My group will hit a Muggle concert hall and Malfoy's team will strike a popular Muggle shopping center."

Draco eyed Pansy. He still hadn't been able to talk to her since his last Muggle hunt, and now they had been assigned on a mission together. The blond Death Eater was angry at her for avoiding him and yet longing for her for the same reason; he ached for her touch. Every time he had tried to make contact with her, she would always dart away. But now, she couldn't run off; they all had a task to do for the Dark Lord. Which meant Draco could finally discover what the hell was wrong with her.

"We need to cause as much damage as possible," Macnair continued. "Our Master wants to see how strong the Ministry's resolve is when it comes to their new policy of letting the Muggles fend for themselves.

"Malfoy, might I suggest a plan for your assignment?" the senior Death Eater requested.

"Certainly, sir," Draco responded.

"The shopping center is laid out in a line," Macnair explained. "Start at the south end and rapidly make your way to the north; launching as many Blasting Hexes as you possibly can in every direction. Once you have reached the north end, head out into the car park, cast the Dark Mark and then activate your Portkey to return here."

"Thank you sir," Draco said as humbly as he could.

"Your purpose is to cause as much havoc, destruction, and death as quickly as possible," Macnair went on. "Destroy everything you can."

"Yes sir, it will be done," Draco said boldly.

"You have fifteen minutes to prepare your team before your Portkey is scheduled to take you to the target," Macnair said before leaving Draco with his friends and teammates.

Draco looked over at Pansy and realized this would be the perfect opportunity to see what her problem was.

"All right, you heard the man: destroy everything," Draco said quickly while staring directly at Pansy. "Once we get there, start firing off Blasting Hexes at random and as quickly as you can. Got it?"

Bulstrode, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott all nodded their heads. Draco walked up to Pansy and before she could retreat, he grabbed hold of her hand.

"We need to talk," he said in a whisper. Draco dragged his lover to a corner and demanded; "What the hell is wrong?"

Pansy glowered at him for a second before she said in a low hiss, "I saw you."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

With tears shimmering in her eyes, Pansy said with disgust, "I saw with those Muggles. I saw what you did with that filthy little… _thing!"_

Draco's blood went cold. She had followed him and watched what he had done on his last hunt. He knew Pansy wasn't upset over the fact the girl was barely a preteen, he wasn't naïve. Instead, he knew she was upset because he had cheated on her and done so with a Muggle. In her eyes, Draco had lowered himself in a foul, unconscionable manner.

"How could you?" she asked as a tear trickled down her cheek.

Draco was stunned at the pain in Pansy's eyes. He had betrayed her trust and hurt her deeply.

"I... I'm sorry," he muttered pathetically. "I won't do it again."

The bitterness that Pansy felt wanted her to remain angry at him, but the truth of the matter was she needed Draco as much as he needed her. She missed being with him at night, whispering her fears, desires, and hopes to him as they held each other in their arms. And she missed her dreams of one day being the mother of his children. Pansy's lower lip quivered and she asked "Do you promise?"

Draco nodded his head and kissed her on the lips, making her a silent vow never to falter again. The two spent the next several minutes holding each other's hands in silence.

"Draco, the Portkey is ready," Nott told the blond wizard.

Hesitantly, Draco and Pansy pulled away from each other. Neither one wanted to part, but they had a mission to do. They looked deep into each other's eyes and made a silent pledge to make amends that night.

With a loud crack, the six young Death Eaters appeared at the south end of a shopping mall in Sutton Coldfield. For a split second, the Muggles in the immediate area thought that the masked and robes figures were some sort of promotion for one of the larger shops. But then everything started exploding around them.

Each member of Draco's team began shouting the incantation for the Blasting Hex as rapidly as possible. Everyone of Draco's team was effective in his or her hexes, except for Goyle and Crabbe; the two buffoons could only summon enough power to knock things over or leave a scorch mark on them. The others' hexes caused a great deal of damage. Draco's first barrage left a clothing shop and its customers nothing more than smoldering ruins. Pansy leveled a children's boutique and a pretzel stand. Bulstrode and Nott both hit a group of Muggles as they tried to flee the destruction, sending chunks of their bodies in every direction.

It took them less than five minutes to reach the north end of the mall, blasting everything in sight with each step. As they exited the mall, Draco looked back at the destruction they had caused; the sight generated a great deal of self-pride in the young Death Eater. Shops were on fire; black smoke choked the air. He could hear Muggles moaning and screaming in pain throughout the now ruined building.

In the car park outside the mall, dozens and dozens of people were running in a blind panic. The panicked shoppers were screaming about black robed people tossing grenades about. Everyone was trying to get away from the maniacs as fast as they could. Their panic only added to the utter chaos.

Lester Mitchell, a teacher from a local school for girls, had decided to reward his class with a trip to the mall for doing so well on their tests. He had acquired a bus for this little outing and the young girls were enjoying the day shopping and eating sweets. But then those madmen showed up and things started blowing up. Mitchell tried to round up his girls and get them out of there as best as he could. From the front of the bus, he looked over his charges; he was relieved as he saw only a few girls were injured and none severely. But the relief was short-lived as he noticed that he was missing the group's driver as well as two of his students, Lucile Farnsworth and Tabitha Johnson. Lester was about to run back into the smoldering mall to find them when he saw the six robed terrorists walk out into the car park. He had no idea if they were going to start throwing more grenades or not but he had to get the girls that were already in the bus to safety. Thankfully, the school had provided Lester with a spare set of keys. He hopped into the driver's seat and rammed the keys into the ignition.

Draco was about to raise his wand and cast the Dark Mark as he had been ordered, when he eyes fell on a large Muggle vehicle. Inside the contraption, Draco could see many young Muggle girls; their tiny faces were looking at him in absolute fear. Their eyes locked on his and he was suddenly reminded of the Muggle girl he forced himself upon. Lust washed over him. A stir in his loins begged him to play with one of the Muggle girls.

Bile burned Pansy's throat as she looked at her lover's eyes. They were glazed over and dark with lust. They were the same eyes he had whenever they made love. And what sickened her was that those lust-filled eyes were fixed on a group of filthy Muggles.

Draco had promised her that he wouldn't betray her again. And yet, she could tell that he wanted nothing more than to snatch one of these girls from the odd device and force her onto her knees so that he could pleasure himself once again. He obviously desired to have a Muggle's disgusting mouth around his organ, and it enraged Pansy. Her lover wanted to lower himself. She needed to put a stop to it. Pansy would have to take the temptation away from Draco; he had forced her hand.

Inside the bus, Lester turned the key and the engine sputtered. The driver had a similar problem earlier in the day; he had to turn the key and pump the accelerator for a full fifteen seconds to get the decrepit vehicle to start. Through the mirror, Lester saw one of the terrorists approach. He frantically twisted the ignition and stomped on the pedal.

With rage in her heart, Pansy leveled her wand at the door by the driver and shouted_ "Flagro Aduro!" _She focused all of her hatred and anger into her Flaming Hex.

Right in front of Lester's eyes, a stream of blue fire erupted from a stick the terrorist held. The door to the bus exploded in flames. Shards of glass and twisted metal flew at Lester like bullets; tearing through his skin and punching into his bones. The man collapsed to the floor and the intense fire filled the front part of the vehicle. With his last breath and as the flames consumed him, Lester shouted to his students; "Get out through the emergency hatch!"

Pansy's eyes lit up with righteous retribution as her magical fire quickly spread through the compartment of the bus. The Muggles' screams pierced her ears. Most of the girls were frozen in panic, but some of them had enough sense to try to open up a door with the phrase _"emergency hatch"_ printed overhead at the opposite end of the vehicle. But Pansy saw their movements and cast another powerful Flame Hex at this hatch. Now the bus was burning on both ends. One sobbing and screaming girl in the middle of the bus pounded uselessly on the glass as the flames marched towards her.

Pansy shot a disgusted and angry look at Draco. She had silently told him that he would never get to play with Muggles again. And what's more, Draco doubted that she'd ever let him touch her again.

With a defeated and heavy feeling in his chest, Draco pointed his wand in the air and shouted "_Morsmordre!"_

As the giant green skull appeared above the burning mall, Draco and his team activated their return Portkey and disappeared. A second later, the flames reached the petrol tank of the bus and blew up.

**x**

**x**

She had done it; she had actually made a romantic meal for Ron by herself. Even though she had used magic to help make the dinner, she had put a lot of thought and effort into it; roast duck with a champagne cream sauce served with roasted peppers and sautéed vegetables. After she set the table with a few flicks of her wand, Hermione heard the doorbell ring three times in rapid succession and then once after a second of silence. This was Ron's special code; Hermione and Ron had come up with a series of identifications so that Hermione would know that it was him and not a Death Eater attempting a sneak attack.

Ron barely grunted a hello to her and sat at the table. Immediately, he began to shovel food onto his plate. The red-head proceeded to stuff his face with the meal.

It upset Hermione he was just wolfing down his food like a pig. He could've at least complimented her hard work. But she told herself Ron's manners could be honed and polished over time; something of a project she could work on. She also noticed he seemed a little distracted.

After dinner, they moved to the couch in the parlor and started to kiss. Hermione speculated that in his distracted manner, trying to strike up a conversation with Ron would be pointless.

Once again, Ron shoved his tongue into her mouth without preamble. It was if he was demanding dominance. Hermione forced herself to accept his actions again. He painfully mashed and squeezed her breast through her blouse. This was another act that Hermione put her mind to change in the future.

After a moment, Hermione opened Ron's trousers and pulled his organ out. The red haired wizard leaned his head back and waited for Hermione to start stroking him. They had done this routine three times in total so far and Ron had been eager to move on to more enjoyable activities. But he thought Hermione was being prudish as usual and doubted they would do more than they had previously. He was happily surprised to have his girlfriend lower her head into his lap.

Ron's taste and odor was peculiar to say the least; he smelled like an old sock and tasted of sour onions. Hermione attempted to convince herself that this is what men smelled and tasted like, and forced herself to continue.

When she planned this evening, Hermione had a conversation with Daphne and Susan as to how she should perform fellatio. They had given her some very helpful insight and techniques. She started out by licking him and then slowly progressed to placing his crown into her mouth. But his taste was so unpleasant Hermione dared not take in any more of his manhood. The brunette witch's stomach clenched up like a knot. She thought it was just butterflies; that she was merely nervous. But she also felt a little cold. Hermione ignored her reaction and continued to pleasure Ron.

In a very short amount of time, Ron started to groan and move his hips up and down; ordering Hermione with his movements to take more of him into her mouth. She told herself that she will get used to his taste. Until then, he would have to be satisfied with just her tongue rolling over his crown while she stroked his shaft with her fingers.

He groaned again and roughly grabbed two pillows on the couch. Ron had to do this otherwise he would've grabbed the back Hermione's head and shoved her down further onto his organ. He so wanted to feel her mouth around his entire member. But it would be bad form to force her in such a way. She needed to get over her nerves on her own. But a part of Ron wished that she would do so quickly because he wanted to become a man. Waiting for Hermione had worn him down.

A few moments later, Ron grunted loudly and his bitter, salty load was in Hermione's mouth. She wanted to spit it out straight away; it was so foul! Both Daphne and Susan had warned her that it was an unusual taste and that she might grow to like it. But Ron's seed was disgusting. It tasted like something similar to bleach mixed with salt. She forced herself to stand up and briskly walk to the kitchen with the mess in her mouth. Once she got to the sink, she quickly spat it in and began running the faucet. After the mess was washed away, Hermione rinsed out her mouth several times, trying to wash the odious taste out.

Wiping her face dry with a dish towel, Hermione returned to the parlor. She found Ron still sitting on the couch. He was staring off into the distance.

"Is everything okay?" she asked him.

Ron sighed and stated flatly, "I killed a man today."

"What?" Hermione asked with dread.

"Me and my partners went to fetch a suspect. We'd been after him for a day already. He was reportedly a Death Eater supporter," Ron began. His voice was cold and even as he spoke, as if the events had not truly sunk in yet. "When we approached him, we told him he that we were going to take him in for questioning. He just bolted like a frightened rabbit. Anyway, we gave chase. Every once in a while he'd fire off a Jelly Legs Jinx over his shoulder at us. After about a minute of running, I hit him with a Trip Jinx; knocked his feet right out from under him. He pitched right over a railing into an open stairwell. Fell down three fights before he hit the ground. Broke his neck."

"Oh, Ron, I'm so sorry," Hermione lamented and sat next to her boyfriend.

"It's all right I suppose," Ron said as he continued to stare at nothing. "I reckon he was a bad guy otherwise he wouldn't have run like that. It just feels weird; the first time I've killed somebody, you know?"

"But Ron, you've killed before," Hermione said. She began to get worried about his state of mind. Had he forgotten about his actions during the attack on Hogwarts?

"No, I haven't," Ron replied.

"Don't you remember? That giant?" she asked. "The one who was charging at us when Hogwarts was being attacked; you killed him."

"Hermione, you amaze me sometimes how backwards you are," Ron said and a soft smile appeared on his face. "That didn't count; a giant's not a man."

"How can you say that? _'Not a man'_?" Hermione asked. She was offended that Ron would think such things.

"You grew up in this world," Ron said and he gestured to the room around him as if it was a strange and alien place. "I grew up in the magical world. I've heard stories all my life about giants. They're vicious animals who thrive on killing. Nothing more than wild beasts. They're not like us."

"Are you saying Hagrid, who was half-giant, was nothing more than a beast?" Hermione asked angrily.

"He was also half wizard. Which made him all right," Ron replied off handedly. "But he was never right in the head. Look how barmy he was when it came to ideas about pets."

Hermione wanted to press the issue, but she knew that Ron was a stubborn man and would refuse to concede her point. At best, if she tried to convince him of how wrong his attitude was, it would lead to an argument and she would end up crying like she usually did during such discussions with Ron. Besides, she could tell that he was still upset over his actions earlier in the day. Perhaps it was his grief was causing him to be more irrational than normal and made him say such things.

Instead of starting an argument with Ron, Hermione decided to turn on her parent's telly, effectively changing the subject. She picked up the remote, pressed the power button, and the bright light from the television filled the room. Ron's eyes bulged in wonder. His dad had one in his workshop, but Ron had never seen a television set that actually worked before.

The station that the television had been tuned to was showing a special report by the BBC.

"... a major disaster. At least twenty are dead at the Dundee Concert Hall and forty are reported dead at The Mall Gracechurch in Sutton Coldfield," the reporter announced. The screen switched to an aerial view of a building that was in flames.

"What you are seeing is the devastation at the Concert Hall," the reporter said. "A group of six armed men and women attacked during a charity ball. But the attack at the shopping mall was an even greater tragedy. I must warn you, the pictures you're about to see may be very unsettling."

The image on the screen switched to a recording taken from a security camera. It clearly showed six Death Eaters walking through the middle of the mall, launching what were obviously Blasting Hexes. People were being crushed by falling debris or blown to smithereens by the hexes.

Hermione and Ron were both glued to the television. The Muggles were broadcasting a Death Eater attack on national television. If the Ministry had not dissolved most of the Muggle Relation personnel and Obliviators, they would've stopped them from broadcasting the story as well as adjusting the witnesses' memories accordingly. Hermione knew that this broadcast would cause a great deal of problems between the Muggle and Magical world.

"This next video was captured by the external cameras, where the most gruesome attack happened," the reported continued. "Again, I must warn our viewers that the footage we're about to show is very unsettling."

The screen showed a high resolution video of a female Death Eater walking up to a bus. Hermione gasped in horror when she realized that the bus was full of young girls, none of them could have been older than ten. She could easily see the Death Eater shout the Flame Hex incantation and blue flames quickly engulfed the vehicle.

"All aboard the bus were announced dead at the scene," the reporter commented.

"I better head back to the division," Ron said as he got off of the couch.

"Why bother?" Hermione asked bitterly. "The Ministry has basically said the Muggles are on their own. Even if they hadn't abandoned the Muggles, it's too late to do any clean up. After this broadcast, we'd need to Obliviate the entire country, and that's impossible."

"Yeah, but they still may need my help," Ron replied. "This may be only a distraction by the Death Eaters. They probably attacked the Muggles in hopes of us sending our forces to help the victims. And then the Death Eaters could hit us while we're unprotected. Just like before."

Without another word, Ron walked out of Hermione's parent's house and disappeared with a pop. Hermione continued to watch the report on the telly with a mixture of grief and rage.

**x**

**x**

The Prime Minister was pacing back and forth in his office. The war the wizards were having amongst themselves had just spilled over into the regular world and onto the BBC. And the blasted wizards were doing nothing to cover it up. This was not like them at all. Normally, whenever a wizard hurt non-magical people, they would jump right in and use their powers to make sure everyone thought it was a gas line explosion, earthquake, hurricane, or some other disaster.

But now, there was video of some of the Death Eaters, or whatever they were called, walking through a mall and killing people. This was causing a stir throughout the country; news anchors and so-called experts were openly asking how the terrorists were able to use sticks as weapons. How were they able to disappear into thin air?

The people of Britain would not just sit by and let this happen. They would demand to know what happened. And they would demand that the perpetrators be brought to justice. That new Minister for Magic, Godfrey, better get his act together and fix this straight away or there'll be hell to pay, the Minister thought with acrimony.

A knock on his door alerted the Minister to his meeting.

"Come in," the Minister said.

General Holloway walked into the Minister's office and saluted him.

"Good to see you, General," the Minister said as he shook Holloway's hand.

"Likewise sir," the general replied. "I have some reports from up north sir."

"What kind of reports?"

"Seems there was a serial killer stalking a park up there," the General informed him as he pulled out a file from his briefcase. "The local law enforcement set up a group to patrol the park to see if they could catch the murderer. Well a few nights ago, they stumbled across him. He killed two officers and a family of six."

"How dreadful," the Minister said sadly.

"The thing is sir, the police got a good look at the murderer," the General continued and he pulled out the artist's rendition and he held it for the Minister to see. "He was wearing the same outfit those terrorists wore."

The Minister sat in his chair and looked to the office wall, at the awful painting of the frog-like man with a white wig. He was wishing that it would spring to life and tell him the other Minister was on his way to patch things up. But the damned thing just hung there, unmoving.

"They also reported that the murderer waved a baton at one of the offices and they then saw a green flash of light. The next thing they knew, the officer is dead and the murderer disappeared right in front of their eyes," Holloway added.

"Sir, we don't know how they did it, but by the video from the attack at the mall, it's clear that these terrorists were somehow using their sticks to activate some kind of explosives, which is easy enough; they could've planted bombs sometime before the attack and used the batons as simple remote detonators. But the one thing that gets me is that one of them was able to shoot fire directly out of their stick, like some kind of flame thrower. I've seen that video at least a hundred times and I can tell you there was nothing attached to the stick; nothing hidden up their sleeves that could explain the flames." The General concluded with; "It was like magic!"

The Minister looked up at the ugly painting one last time before turning to the General. "It's ironic that you mentioned magic as if it were an impossible notion," the Minister began. "I'm going to tell you something that you might not believe. Hell, I didn't believe when it was told to me..."

**x**

**x**

The thing in the darkness was growing. It was slowly moving toward Harry. He wasn't afraid of it. Somehow he knew that it wanted to join him; to give him the power that it held. And Harry welcomed it. With the power that the thing held, he could get his revenge on Voldemort and his Death Eaters.

'Why stop there?' the voice in his head asked. 'Why stop with just them? Get your revenge against all that have wronged you, not just Voldemort and his Death Eaters.'

'Who do you mean?' Harry asked.

'That bitch Umbridge for starters,' the voice stated. 'The toad-woman made everyone's life miserable by abusing her power. She tortured you with that blood quill of hers and even threatened to use the Cruciatus on you. Despite that the fact that it is widely acknowledged that she did these things, she still works for the Ministry, and in a position of influence. At the very least, she should've been chucked into Azkaban. She deserves to be punished. Yet she remains untouched.'

An image formed in Harry's mind; he saw his hands wrapped around Umbridge's neck, her wide mouth opened and closed, silently begging for mercy. Warmth passed through Harry at the thought of choking the life out of that bitch.

In the darkness, Harry felt the thing grow slightly. Harry knew that the thing somehow gained strength from the image in Harry's mind.

'And then there's your so-called family,' the voice continued. 'They're your blood and yet they treated you like a fucking slave.'

A part of Harry, a dark part, longed to see the Dursleys suffer. But Harry quelled the instinct. The Dursleys weren't evil; they were just ignorant and frightened.

'They were frightened of you when you were a baby?' the voice demanded. 'What could a toddler have done to them to make them want to shove you in the cupboard under the stairs?'

Harry tried to block out the voice, and more importantly, the dark part of his self. But the voice had a valid point.

'Did they lock you in a fucking storage cupboard because they were afraid of you?' the voice asked. 'Did they encourage Dudley and his friends to beat you out of fear? Would your relatives deny you food because of that fear?'

The voice's words rang true. His relatives had abused and neglected him for as long as he could remember; Vernon and Dudley in particular. But then Harry argued internally that Petunia was his mother's sister and she deserved a second chance for that alone.

'You idealistic fool,' the voice snapped. 'She chucked a frying pan at your head! She could've easily killed you! You were just a kid and she could have killed you! Or worse, she could've caused you brain damage and turned you into a vegetable! And you think she deserves a second chance? You're not being noble or valiant. You're being stupid.

'Yes, she was your mother's sister,' the voice continued. 'That meant she, more than anybody else, should've protected you. Instead, not only did she encourage abuse, she participated in that abuse! Out of all of your relatives Petunia deserves the most punishment because she was the one that should've protected you.'

The dark part of Harry's mind reared up once more and created an image. This one was far more graphic than the one where he imagined strangling Umbridge. In this image, Harry saw Dudley and Vernon with the necks broken, lying on the floor at Harry's feet while the young wizard continually smashed Petunia's face with the same frying pan that she had tried to hit him with.

At first Harry was appalled at such a violent thought. He doubted that he would've been horrified if he had imagined beating a Death Eater or Umbridge with the frying pan; they were evil people who enjoyed causing innocents to suffer. But then Harry started to recall all of the times Petunia willingly mistreated him. The times he scraped his knee and the horse-faced woman would not kiss the pain away but yelled at him for bleeding on her carpet. Of the times he would wake up from a nightmare screaming and his aunt would punish him for waking her up instead of reassuring him that the monsters of his dreams weren't real. She had clearly hated him, and a part of her must have enjoyed making him suffer, otherwise she wouldn't have been so cruel. Slowly Harry began to realize that Petunia wasn't all that different from Umbridge or the Death Eaters.

The thing in the darkness grew in power.

**x**

**x**

In _The Muggles' Bane_; a pub of ill repute deep in Knockturn Alley, Cornell Thorne was loudly boasting about his most recent mission for the Dark Lord to a particularly pretty witch. His partner and fellow Death Eater, Oscar Stryker, had left to go home a few minutes before.

"Ain't cha worried 'bout yer friend?" the pretty witch asked in a thick, uncouth accent. "This ain't th' best part of Knockturn Alley ta' be roaming 'bout by yerself late at night."

"Oscar can handle himself," Thorne said dismissively. He quickly downed another shot of firewhiskey. "Besides, as proven tonight, Oscar can cast an excellent Blasting Hex. I would worry more about anyone who tried to hassle him."

"You an' yer friend know 'ow ta cast a good Blasting Hex?" she asked while playing with a curly strand of her long blonde hair.

Thorne could tell by the witch's accent and manner of speech that she was poorly educated. But her ability to carry on a proper conversation was not the thing that Thorne found interesting about this witch. He was only concerned with the two mounds on her chest and the area between her legs.

"Why yes I do," he said and singled the barman for another order of firewhiskey. "In fact earlier tonight, I was part of a team that laid waste to a Muggle concert hall."

"Really?" she asked with a broad smile. "Tha' must've been fun."

"Oh it was, my dear, it was," Thorne said. He took his hand and slid it up inside her robe. He rubbed his rough palm on her bare thigh.

"Could you tell me 'bout it?" she requested. "A good Muggle hunt really gets me going."

Thorne slammed back another mouthful of whiskey before he told his tale. "It was glorious. Disgusting Muggles were screaming as they were blown to shreds..."

A few short minutes, Thorne and the witch walked out of the pub. The firewhiskey had taken its toll and robbed Thorne of the ability to walk in a straight line. He leaned on the witch for support.

"My dear, I will show you a night you soon won't forget," he said confidently through his heavy slur as she led him to a filthy alley.

"That's funny, because that's exactly what I was about to say to you," the witch said. The drastic change in her accent went unnoticed by Thorne. Neither had he observed the tip of her wand jabbing him in the ribs.

She muttered _"Stupefy,"_ and the wizard fell to the dirty ground with a thud.

"About bloody time," grumbled Moody as he limped out of the shadows.

"This son of a bitch can hold his liquor," the witch said in Tonks' voice. "It nearly took a week's pay to get him drunk enough to spill the beans."

"He talked? Good," the scared wizard said. "The other one was tight lipped, couldn't get a word out of him. What did he say?" asked Moody, pointing to the Death Eater at Tonks' feet.

"He said Macnair would meet him tomorrow, here at _The Muggles' Bane,_ to receive his orders," Tonks told him. "Of course he told me this while squeezing my tit."

"Nabbing Macnair is worth more than a little discomfort," stated Moody.

"True," Tonks agreed. "Bringing down one of You Know Who's inner circle is just the thing we need. Especially after all the crap our side has been through lately."

"Macnair is no slouch when it comes to dueling," Moody said soberly. "We'll need backup to take him on."

"Who were you thinking of?" she asked.

"Me, you, Lupin, Shacklebolt, Bill Weasley, and Patterson."

"No, not Patterson," objected Tonks. "I hate Martha."

Moody paused for a moment and then said "All right, we can do it without her. Besides, she's still a new member and I don't know if she can handle herself in a fight."

"That maybe true, but I just happen to think she's just a bitch," Tonks said while casually casting a Levicorpus Charm on the unconscious Death Eater. "You know some of the rumors circling around the Ministry is Martha's treating Hermione like shite. Hermione's a good kid and she deserves better."

"Let stow the chit-chat and haul our prisoners away," Moody said. "We'll put them under a Stasis Charm until after we deal with Macnair. Then we can drop the whole lot off at Azkaban where they can rot."

"It's too bad that they probably won't get charged for what they did today," Tonks said darkly. "Damn Ministry probably won't prosecute any of them for crimes they've committed against Muggles now that we've severed ties."

"Yeah, but these bastards have done plenty in the wizarding world to have them lock away for the rest of their lives," stated Moody.

**x**

**x**

Early the next morning, Hermione popped out of Susan and Daphne's flat and made her way to a Muggle newsstand. Every single newspaper had numerous pictures of the Death Eater attacks. After paying the stand clerk, Hermione tucked several newspapers under her arm and headed back to the flat.

Once in the flat, the brunette spread the papers across the table. Susan and Daphne joined Hermione as she read them.

"Oh, this is horrible. Those poor Muggles," Susan moaned. Her eyes darted from one paper to the other. "And now, everyone in Britain knows about us."

"I can guarantee that this had made news in other countries as well," Hermione speculated. "Definitely Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the States, and most of the other E. U. countries. It's a bloody mess."

Daphne pointed at a picture of the Death Eater casting a Flame Hex on school children and said, "That's Parkinson."

"Pansy?" Hermione asked in disbelief. There was no doubt in Hermione's mind that Pansy had become a Death Eater, but she couldn't believe one of her former classmates would commit such an atrocious act as killing children.

"I recognize her wand, and the way she holds it," Daphne said. "I should, considering the number of times that bitch stuck her wand in my face and threatened me."

"I think I'm going to be sick," Susan said. Up until that moment, she had no connections to any real Death Eaters, none that she knew of at least. But now, she knew one who had purposely killed defenseless little girls. Susan had gone to school and shared lessons with someone who turned into a child murderer and it rocked her to the core.

Slowly, Hermione's eyes started to burn. Her mind played out the horrific scene; the children screaming in fear and agony as the flames ate away the bus around them. She heard them calling for their parents in frantic desperation a split second before the bus exploded. Continuing this tragic thought, Hermione imagined the children's parents and how they would react to the terrible news of their murders. She saw them collapsing to the floor as their grief overcame them. The pain and grief these poor people must have felt ripped at Hermione. She sympathized with the plight: she imagined that the families knew pain and suffering beyond belief. All their joy and happiness must have vanished. Every day, for the rest of their lives, they'd mourn their children's violent murders.

As her mind was wracked with sadness, Hermione's hands slowly balled up into tight fists. A burning sensation formed in her belly. The sorrow and pity she felt for the murdered children and their families turned into anger. How could Pansy have done that? Hermione knew Pansy was a bigot and was destined to become a Death Eater, but to murder defenseless children? Hermione had no clue that her former classmate could do something so vicious, so inhuman. The thought of it made Hermione's belly twist into a tight knot and grind her teeth.

A desire began to grow in the back of Hermione's mind. A small part of her wanted to hurt Pansy. Not in some act of justice for the crime the former Slytherin had committed, but for revenge. She wanted to make Pansy suffer, in a heinous way, for killing those children. She didn't like this feeling. Such violent thoughts running through her head frightened her. Hermione did her best to quell these thoughts and desires, but she could still feel them, lurking in the back of her mind.

Daphne turned the page and pointed to the picture of the Death Eater who had cast the Dark Mark, "That's Draco. Just like Pansy, I've had Draco's wand in my face more times than I care to count."

"Makes sense that he's there with her. Pansy always followed Draco around like a love sick puppy," Hermione commented, trying her best to ignore her violent desires toward Pansy.

**x**

**x**

Dinner was fantastic as always. Despite the food rationing going on due to the new Ministry edicts, Molly Weasley was able to make a wonderful meal. As they helped their mother clean up, Ginny signaled to Ron to meet her outside.

"What's up Ginny?" Ron asked after walking up to his sister.

"Let's go for a walk," Ginny said, leading Ron behind the Burrow. "I don't want Mum to overhear us. She wouldn't approve, you know."

When they finally reached the privacy of the trees, Ginny turned to him and said "I found out why Hermione has been so frigid."

"Really? What is it?" Ron asked excitedly. He had been so patient with his girlfriend, but a man can only take so much.

"She has a peculiar and fairly nasty fantasy," Ginny informed him. "It took me a while to pry it out of her, but when she finally told me what it was, it all made sense. Why she tends to snap at you, and why she always pushes you away when you're being intimate is completely clear now."

"Well what is it?" Ron inquired.

"Don't tell my you haven't figured it out yet," Ginny said disapprovingly. "She's been dropping hints left and right. Whenever you try to make a move she pushes you away. And I mean in a physical sense; actually placing her hands on you and shoving you, if not slapping you. She literally fights against you, for pity's sake. You've had to have noticed. Nobody's that dense, Ron."

"Just tell me, damn it," Ron snapped. He didn't like being toyed with and Ginny was intentionally pushing his buttons.

"She wants you to rape her," she said flatly.

"What?" Ron practically shouted in surprise. "Rape her?"

"Not really, just pretend," Ginny said with a smile. "It's a fantasy of hers. She wants you to storm into her room and force yourself on her. She said the idea turned her on."

"You're pulling my leg," Ron said.

"Think about it Ron," Ginny began, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "She's a dominate witch. She likes to be in control; nagging, always telling you what to do, say, and think. Not that that's wrong; it's just part of her nature. You know; _bossy_. But she longs to be subservient; a lot of women like Hermione do. She wants – no, she _needs_ to have you be the one to take the control away from her and dominate her. And what's the ultimate form of control?"

"Rape," answered Ron. His sister's words began to sink in.

"Yes," Ginny said. "Now, I know it's just a fantasy, a role play, but Hermione wants it to be as real as possible."

"What do you mean?"

"You can't go up to her and say _'Is it alright if I rape you, now?'"_ Ginny said lightly as if the subject matter was inconsequential. "She wants it to be as real as you can make it. The more intense you play it, the more she'll get off. She was very specific when I finally got her to talk about this. She wants you to barge in, disarm her if she has her wand, throw her on the ground, rip off her knickers and shag her. And she wants it hard. And she means really hard. As-hard-as-you-can," his sister punctuated each word.

"Wow," Ron muttered. He was surprised that Hermione was such a kinky bird.

"And she warned me, she's going to make as real as she can as well," Ginny continued. "She's going to kick, scream, and bite. So be prepared to be bloodied and bruised. She may even call you foul names or even beg you to stop."

"Well, if she's doing all that, how am I supposed to know she hasn't changed her mind and wants to stop?" asked Ron.

"You know Hermione. She's already thought of that," Ginny said. Ron nodded his head; his girlfriend liked to over-plan things.

"If she changes her mind-" began Ginny.

"Or if I'm being too rough," Ron added.

"Oh don't worry about being too rough. She told me she wants to be really sore, so don't you dare hold back," Ginny reassured her brother. "But like I was saying, if she wants you to stop, she'll use what she called a _safe word_."

"What's a safe word?"

"According to Hermione, it's a word or phrase that someone doesn't normally say in these situations. When they say this safe word during the role playing, that means they want to stop," Ginny explained. "And Hermione's safe word is _'Arithmancy'._"

"So if Hermione says _'Arithmancy'_ I'm supposed to stop?" Ron asked.

"Yes," Ginny said and patted him on the shoulder. "Remember, you're going to break her hymen so there'll be blood. And some girls can bleed a lot. So don't worry if there's a good amount of blood, okay?"

"Okay," Ron said with a mixture of excitement and anxiety.

"And don't worry about hurting her," Ginny coached. "She told me that she's stockpiled a bunch of healing potions to fix anything you might do. She wants you to be as rough as you can. Trust me, Hermione's really thought this thing through."

**x**

**x**

Harry was imagining another scene. He was back in the Dursleys' home and he had forced Petunia on her knees. The haggish woman screamed and begged as he drove his thumbs into her eye sockets. The image made Harry warm and tingly. The thing in the darkness seemed to feed off of Harry's gruesome thoughts.

'Feels good, doesn't it?' the voice in Harry's head asked.

Harry didn't need to answer with words or thoughts. He was so excited about punishing the people that had harmed him that he could feel his manhood begin to rise. He could feel it stretch out to its full length.

'It's a shame you never had anyone you could use that on,' the voice said. Harry knew that it was talking about his organ. 'You were always too afraid to do it, weren't you?"

'What the hell is that supposed to mean?' Harry shot back.

'You had plenty of opportunities,' the voice replied. 'But you always held back.'

'I was waiting for the right time,' Harry defended. He thought of the times he and Ginny had sat by the lake, kissing lightly and holding hands.

'That's a load of tripe. You could've taken any witch you wanted,' the voice challenged.

'I'm not a rapist!' Harry barked. The idea of forcing himself on anyone was offending and disgusting.

'I'm not talking about rape, you moron,' the voice said angrily. 'Ginny was a slut...'

'She's not a slut!' Harry shouted.

'Oh, please! Do you think she did nothing more than hold Michael or Dean's hands. Or gave them merely chaste kisses? The way those two reacted when she dumped them should tell you she did a hell of a lot more than just that.'

Harry remained silent. Once again, the things the voice said had a ring of truth to them, particularly with Dean. Harry remembered the angry looks his dorm mate gave him. The black wizard wouldn't have been so bitter over the breakup if he and Ginny had only talked and held hands. His anger hinted at a more intimate and physical relationship.

'And more importantly, did Ginny play around with Michael and Dean because she liked them?' the voice asked. 'No, she toyed with their affections to get your attention. She paraded Michael around you. And when you didn't notice, she dumped him and picked up your roommate. Someone you had to notice.

'The point is, Ginny was loose and you could've used that to your advantage,' the voice continued. 'If you showed that red head tramp your cock, she would've spread her legs wide for you without hesitation. And you know it.'

An image suddenly formed in Harry's head. Ginny was lying on her back and he was on top of her, pushing into her. He imagined her moaning into his ear; the sound sent shivers up and down his spine. In the darkness, the thing swelled even more.

'And then there was Cho,' the voice said with a bemused chuckle. _'"Oh, I miss Cedric. Woe is me,"' _the voice mocked, pretending to cry miserably. 'She came to you crying, and you let her use you like some sort of emotional tampon. She vented all of her grief on you and then tossed you aside. You should've made her forget about Cedric. You could've told her some nonsense like _"Cedric wouldn't want to see you hurting so much over him." _And then you should've kissed her long and hard. Prove to her that you were more of a man than Cedric ever was. At the very least, you should've gotten a blow job out of her.'

Harry was reminded of the vision like dream he had before Voldemort performed the ritual; the vision where very woman he had ever met gave him fellatio. This time, his mind lingered on the image of what the voice had suggested: Cho on her knees, pleasuring him with her mouth. The image was so vivid that he could almost feel her hot, wet mouth wrapped around his organ, and her spit trickling down his shaft. The thing in the darkness stirred.

'I'd never do anything like that,' Harry said. Even if some of what the voice was saying was true, and despite how intriguing it sounded, he would not push himself on Cho or Ginny. It wasn't in his nature to be so aggressive. He was a patient person. He would wait for whatever witch he was with, whether it was Ginny, Cho, or another witch, to make the first move.

'Oh, that's perfect. You dated the school slut and all you did was hold her hand and you say you would've waited,' the voice criticized. 'You think that being patient and nice will get you something? I'll tell you what it got you. One girl used your shoulder to cry on and you got to hold the hand of a girl who would've gladly let you bend her over the Gryffindor table and allow you to bugger her in front of everyone in the Great Hall.'

Harry tried to ignore the voice. He really had wanted to be intimate with Ginny and even Cho. But he couldn't just force himself on them, or anyone. That was too much like rape in his mind.

'There is a great difference between being a man and a being a rapist,' the voice explained. The bitterness and anger had subsided and now the voice was calm and soothing, yet still firm. 'A rapist is a person who forces themselves violently on someone who doesn't want him. A man claims his woman, not with force, but with his heart and mind; by being brave, noble, kind, generous, and compassionate yet firm. You show her what kind of man you are by talking with her and showing her your passions. If the woman doesn't want you, you move on to another. But if she does want you, you take her and don't hold back. You make her cry in passion and beg for more.

'Both Ginny and Cho were looking for that man, a man who was brave, noble, compassionate and kind. They wanted you to be the one. But you held back; afraid that taking control of the situation would make you aggressive. They wanted you, silently asked you to look deep into their eyes and tell them that you would wash away all of their pain and doubt and make them whole. Each wanted you to whisper comforting and loving words in her ear. They needed you to battle their demons, both real and figurative. And they needed you on top of them, your bare skin on theirs; to call out your name. But you denied this because you thought that would've been too hostile.

'You can be brave and noble and still have a witch beg for you,' the voice concluded.

Harry's mind flashed back to both images of Cho and Ginny. It was like both scenes were playing out simultaneously in his head. In one, he was pushing in and out of Ginny while in the other Cho's tongue massaged him. He could feel the pressure in his loins; a desperate plea for release. Suddenly, Harry groaned and he felt himself climax. In his mind, he imagined Ginny crying out as his seed shot into her womanhood, while the other scene had Harry unloading himself on Cho's tongue, mouth, lips, and chin. He imagined both witches smiling at him; their smiles and satisfied looks in their eyes made Harry warm.

The thing that lurked in the blackness roared triumphantly.

**x**

**x**

Severus was taking his constitutional outside his lab when he saw four Death Eaters walk by him. He took note because they were normally guarding the Dark Lord's throne room. To see them walking about in the dungeon and so far away from their Master's chambers was odd. Each of them had fulfilled smiled on their faces.

"Hey, Tulliver, you had the blonde one right?" one asked another as the walked.

"Yeah, she was a screamer. I thought my eardrums would burst," Tulliver responded. "How was the red head, Winfield? She had enormous tits."

"She wasn't as pretty as the black one Daly had," Winfield answered. "Those eyes she had were intense."

"Who thought shagging a bunch of Muggles would be so much fun," the fourth stated.

"It would've been more fun if they weren't under the Imperius," Tulliver said.

Snape sneered at them as they passed. Working with such lowly filth upset the Potions master, it sullied his noble work.

**x**

**x**

"Ginny, we have wonderful news!" Molly called out as she walked into her home after a very uplifting Order meeting. Following close behind her were her husband Arthur, and Remus and Tonks.

"I cannot believe how irate Martha was," chuckled Tonks.

"Well, it didn't help her mood when you kept rubbing her face in it," Remus pointed out.

"The bitch deserves it after the way she's been treating Hermione," Tonks said with no shame.

"Who deserved what?" Ginny asked as she walked into the kitchen, yawning widely.

"I'm sorry dear, I keep forgetting you work the night shift," apologized Molly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"'s' alright, I was about to get up anyway," the young witch said and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. "Now what's the wonderful and why is someone mad?"

"The good news is that we captured Walden Macnair today," Arthur said happily. "Five Order members, including Tonks and Remus, sprung a trap for him and now one of You Know Who's top lieutenants is in Azkaban."

"That's wonderful!" congratulated Ginny enthusiastically.

"And Martha Patterson is the one who's ticked," Tonks said, happy that the other witch was upset.

"That's Hermione's boss, right?" Ginny asked and the pink haired Auror nodded her head. "What reason does she have to be mad —not that I don't mind that the slag is having a rough time."

"Martha's upset because she was left out of the loop," Remus informed her. "The attack included a majority of the remaining Order members besides your parents. And Martha believes that it was unfair that she wasn't informed about the trap for Macnair."

"If she wasn't such a slag I would feel sorry for her," Ginny said with just a touch of bitterness to her voice. "I don't like people who harass my friends. And Martha practically persecutes Hermione."

"Now let's have no more talk about nasty witches," chirped Arthur. "We need to celebrate Macnair's capture."

**x**

**x**

Jonathan Appleton had a peculiar hobby. He had developed a taste for playing tricks on Muggles ever since he was kicked out of Hogwarts due to his failed O.W.L.s. Since he was rubbish at most charms above a third year level, Jonathan was forced to get a job at a Muggle company and live in a Muggle neighborhood. It wasn't a bad way of life, but for Jonathan it was boring. To pass the time, Jonathan started to play small pranks on the Muggles that lived around him. The pranks he pulled were never harmful or dangerous; he would change the color of one Muggle's hair to bright orange, make a squirrel do a complex jig in front of some Muggles out on a picnic, or make a house cat talk. It was all for laughs.

His Muggle neighbors had eventually noticed that these strange happenings would always occur whenever Appleton was around. Their suspicions were heightened by the fact that the strange man would laugh uproariously whenever these odd things would happen.

Even though those dreadful attacks on the Muggles only happened two weeks previously, Jonathan couldn't help himself. He needed to prank one of his neighbors.

He saw his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Williams, trying to fetch her cat out of a tree and the perfect trick came to Jonathan. He knelt down and hid behind the bushes. He waved his wand at his own throat and muttered a Voice Throwing Charm.

"Why don't you just bugger off?" the cat asked in Jonathan's voice. The wizard had to hold back his laughter. He knew that Mrs. Williams must have thought that her cat had somehow learned to talk. "I'm enjoying myself. Piss off."

Then, to put the icing on the cake, Jonathan waved his wand at the cat and changed its fur from white to a brilliant green. Mrs. Williams gave a startled yelp and ran back to her house.

Jonathan howled with laughter. He so enjoyed using the meager charms and spells he knew.

From her kitchen window, Mary Jones watched her strange neighbor, Appleton, sneak up on old Mrs. Williams. Mary watched as Appleton pulled a baton out of his cloak. It was very similar to the baton carried by those terrorist who killed all those people. Mary grabbed her phone and quickly dialed _"999."_

"Emergency," the voice on the line stated.

"Yes, I've seen one of the terrorist that attacked that shopping mall," Marry said frantically. "It's my neighbor; Jonathan Appleton..."

The dispatcher had been instructed that any and all reports about the terrorists should be forwarded to a specific number. What the dispatcher didn't know was this number was monitored by a special task force under the direct order of the Prime Minister himself. Also, this task force made up of elite Special Forces from all branches of the military.

This task force had been informed that a secret world existed next to their own. In this world, men and women could perform great feats of magic. And now, that secret world was threatening theirs. The task force had been created solely to stop that threat.

The soldiers of the task force didn't believe what they were told at first. But when they first responded to a report of a woman flying around on a broom, they changed their minds. When they approached the woman, they were under orders to take her in for questioning. But when they were about to apprehend her, she pulled out a stick similar to the ones the terrorist carried and shouted something. A red bolt of light hit their Sergeant and he fell to the floor unconscious. During the confusion, the woman hopped on her broom and took off into the sky, like some witch in a children's cartoon.

Since then, the special task force had attempted to apprehend twelve suspects. Only four had been successfully detained. Two others had flown away on brooms, one jumped into weird green flames in his fireplace before disappearing, and five vanished into thin air with a loud popping noise.

Once the task force had gotten the report of a suspect named Jonathan Appleton, they decided to change tactics. With the previous suspects, the soldiers would attempt to sneak up and silently take the suspects. But that proved relatively unsuccessful. When they went to apprehend Appleton, they decided on a new tactic.

Four teams of five soldiers each approached the house from the north, east, south, and west. When the signal was given, they breached the house; some team members blew the doors off the hinges with shotgun blasts, while others used the stocks of their rifles to smash windows.

Jonathan was in a panic. His front door smashed to the ground with a deafening banging sound. For a split second, he thought that Death Eaters had come and were going to kill him. Before he could react, several men charged into his house.

"Take him down!" a man barked.

One soldier squeezed the trigger on his Taser. A small pop sounded as the two needle-like prongs were ejected from his weapon. A buzzing sound warned the soldier that the electrical charge was being sent through the wires and into the target.

Appleton convulsed and fell to the floor as fifty thousand volts charged through his body.

Once the suspect was down, the team medic ran up and administered a dose of sodium pentothal to keep the target subdued during the transfer to the holding cells.

**x**

**x**

Ron staggered up the stairs to his room. He had just gotten off a grueling, fifteen hour shift. He could think of nothing better to do than crawl into his bed and sleep. He threw open his door and found his sister waiting for him.

"Great news," she heralded. "Hermione just gave you some study material."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Look over there," Ginny said and pointed to his desk. A stone Pensieve basin and several jars filled with silver liquid sat on his desk. "They're Pensieve memories of different rape fantasies."

"Excuse me?" Ron said, as he walked over to examine the basin.

"You know; _'Porn Pensieves'_," she informed him. "A couple plays out a fantasy; in this case an imaginary rape, and then sells the Pensieve memory. People then watch them for entertainment."

"Where'd you get them?"

"You never listen do you," Ginny said with disappointment. "They're from Hermione. She gave them to me so that I can show you."

"Where'd she get them?"

"She told me that they're from her private collection," Ginny replied.

"Hermione has porn Pensieves?" Ron asked in disbelief.

"Not just any porn Pensieves, but rape ones. Loads of them, a _'massive' _collection, she told me. Hermione said that these are just a few of her favorites," Ginny informed, smiling. "I told you, that your girlfriend is really twisted."

"If she wanted me to watch these things, why didn't she just give them to me?" Ron asked.

"Because she wants her fantasy encounter to be as real as possible," his sister answered. "Hermione thinks that if the two of you talk about her fetish, even just in passing, that it'll lessen the thrill of it for her. She wants it as real and as intense as it can be."

"Okay," Ron said and picked up one of the vials.

"So watch those Pensieves a couple of times and learn as much as you can," Ginny said and she headed for his door. "Remember, she wants it real, just like in those memories. That means you have to rough her up and there's bound to be some blood. Do you remember the safe word?"

_"'Arithmancy',"_ he said.

"You enjoy yourself, now," Ginny said and closed Ron's door, leaving him alone.

Even though he was tired from his long day, Ron was so excited about the chance to finally be intimate with Hermione that he decided to watch some of the Pensieve memories right then. They were all pretty much the same; there were four different couples, a witch and a wizard for each memory and they were in a room that had old brick and mortar walls. Ron had become enamored with the stunning black witch; her hazel eyes seemed to look right into his soul. The red headed witch had very large breasts that made Ron wish he could caress them. Each Pensieve memory started off with the witch and wizard introducing themselves to the viewer and then stating that they were about to perform a _"play rape"_ scene. Ron got the impression that they did this to prove it wasn't real. Then the two would start the _"play rape"._ First the wizard would cast Silencing Charms on the door and then smack and punch the witch a few times. The witches really looked pitiful with swollen eyes and split lips. Then the wizard would either magically remove her clothes or physically rip them off of her. She would scream and cry, begging the wizard to stop. When they were finished, the witch would take various potions to heal any injuries she had gotten. Each of the memories ended with both the witch and wizard speaking to the viewer, reiterating the fact that it had been done all in fun. All of the witches looked completely satisfied.

Ron was disgusted at first. He had no idea how or why Hermione was into this. But by the time he watched the third Pensieve, he started to get into it. The witches' screams and pleas, especially the blonde who was quite loud, made him hard as a rock. He had to relieve himself with his hand as he watched the fourth memory.

**x**

**x**

"Thank you for coming, Bellatrix," Lord Voldemort greeted his underling who was bowing before him as he sat on his throne.

"I live to serve, Sire," the witch returned dutifully.

"There is an errand I need you to assist me on," the Dark Lord spoke. "It isn't dangerous, but it will test you."

"My Lord, I would do anything for you," Bellatrix replied with an eager smile.

"Good. I will tell you something that I have not told anyone," he began. "I know I can share this with you because you are my most trusted follower."

Bellatrix's eyes widened and sparkled joyfully and her heart filled with pride. Voldemort smiled, knowing that he could play Bellatrix so well.

"I have a spy entrenched in our opposition," he continued. "This person is invaluable to me. Since Severus killed Dumbledore, he is no longer useful to me other than as a Potion Master."

"That's why you banished him to the dungeons?" she asked, overjoyed Snape was relegated to nothing more than a servant.

"Yes," Voldemort smiled once again, telling his minion a half-truth. "However, as helpful as my new spy is, they are not privy to everything the Order of the Phoenix does. Take for example what happened to our friend Walden."

"Macnair was a fool to be captured," Bellatrix said with disappointment over her fellow Death Eater.

"True. However, if my spy had learned about the trap to capture Walden, we would've set a trap for the Order instead. We could've had a score of Death Eaters waiting for them. Can you imagine, Bella, we would've taken out five of those Order nuisances if we had just known."

Bellatrix did just that. Her skin prickled at the thought of the five witches and wizards screaming as a bevy of Killing Curses flew at them.

"That is why it is imperative that I acquire a new spy," Voldemort continued, "one that is firmly entrenched in the Order of the Phoenix. And I need your help to... _convince_ this person to join our side."

"Whom do you have in mind, Sire?" she asked, knowing that he intended to force this person to join their ranks. And since the Dark Lord had selected her to assist him, she knew that this person who was to be been his spy would be convinced through pain and suffering; Bellatrix's specialties.

"That is the part that will test you, Bella," Voldemort answered. "We will recruit someone with whom you despise to associate with."

**x**

**x**

Thanks to the Death Eaters attacks, the Muggles knew of magical folk, and now they were retaliating. They had captured at least five witches or wizards over the last two weeks. At first, the Ministry of Magic had decided to ignore the Muggles, but then Muggle police had stationed a number of their personnel around the area surrounding the Leaky Cauldron. They had been able to somehow pry the location of the old pub out of their prisoners. Thankfully the wards were still up around the old pub, which meant the Muggles couldn't see the building no matter how hard they tried. But clearly the Muggles now knew of its location. Anyone dressed out of the ordinary was stopped and questioned if they approached the area around the Leaky Cauldron which proved bothersome to witches and wizards.

It had become a problem that had to be fixed. Minister Godfrey called a special session with the top five key Wizengamot members: Spencer Grace, Guinevere Kestrel, George Hamilton-Jones, Herbert Belova and Sophia Demirah. Grodfrey had decided not to allow the whole Wizengamot to sit in on this session simply because he knew that the Wizengamont tented to get out of hand and unruly. With only five members to deal with, Godfrey could easily control the situation.

A small handful of Unspeakables and high ranking Ministry officials were called to speak at this session. The first person to speak was Wanda Chelsea, Head Obliviator, who suggested sending out the Obliviators and adjusting people's memories. This idea was instantly dismissed as unfeasible; they would have to Obliviate every single person in Britain. That would take years, if not generations.

As Undersecretary Umbridge escorted Chelsea out of the chamber where the session was being held, Belova proposed that they should relocate every magical person out of Britain and move them to an island that was under the Fidelius Charm.

"That would take years," Hamilton-Jones said with a scoff.

"To say the least," added Demirah. "I believe it would take over a decade to do so."

Umbridge reentered the chamber and introduced the wizard that followed. "Sebastian Farmer from Magical Game and Sports."

"Ladies and gentlemen of the Wizengamont, I offer that we should take up an age-old idea to deal with the current situation: _Muggle Hunting!"_ Farmer said, confidently.

"Are you mad?" Kestrel shouted at Farmer. "Do you realize the Muggles created a bomb fifty years ago that can destroy entire cities? They have guns that can punch holes through inch-thick steel. And you want us to hunt them like animals? The moment we attack, they'd retaliate in kind!"

"Even discounting their technology, they outnumber us by one hundred to one at the minimum. They could defeat us with their sheer numbers," added Belova.

"Thank you, Mr. Farmer, we shall take your plan into consideration," Godfrey said. His tone clearly implied that they had no such notion.

The next person Umbridge brought into the chamber was Johan Blaor. The wizard was beaming with pride as he stood before the Minister and five Wizengamont members. This was the moment he had been waiting for. "My name is Johan Blaor, an Unspeakable. Not only am I a Potion Master, but I am a geneticist."

"What's that?" asked Hamilton-Jones.

"A geneticist is a person who studies a branch of Muggle science called _'Genetics'_. It's what Muggles believe make up a person; their appearance and traits, among other things," Blaor explained. "I went to a Muggle university and got a doctorate in that field. Since then, I've been studying the differences between Muggles and magical people using both magic and Muggle science.

"Magic is all around us, you can find it everywhere. It flows through everything and everyone," he continued. "The major difference between our two people is that we, wizards and witches, can affect and manipulate magic, whereas Muggles cannot. The reason is that we are more closely connected to magic than they ever will be. We actually give off magic unconsciously."

"You're talking about the Sacul theory, aren't you?" Godfrey asked.

"Yes, sir, we radiate magic. It pours off of our skin," Blaor answered. "It isn't harmful or detrimental to us in any fashion; it's just a byproduct of being a magical person. Even magical children radiate magic."

"This is all very fascinating, but what is the point?" Belova demanded impatiently.

"My point is that since we radiate magic, we can control the Muggles," Blaor stated. All five members of the Wizengamot began to laugh.

"Oh, just simply control them, huh?" Kestrel mocked.

"That was so simple, why didn't I think of it?" Belova said with a chuckle.

Blaor smiled and let the fools mock him. Once they had their fun, he'd show them.

"Every person has a resistance to magic, even Muggles; albeit, by their very nature their resistance is low," Blaor said over the light laughter. "But what would happen if we take away every shred of that resistance away from them? They would be affected by the slightest amount of magic; even if that amount of magic is only in trace amounts."

"Explain yourself," Demirah demanded.

"I have found the genome that separates us from Muggles, as well as the key gene that dictates how resilient one is to magic. With this discovery, I have created a potion that can permanently destroy the particular gene which denotes how resilient Muggles are, thereby making them completely and totally susceptible to magic."

"Are you saying that a Muggle affected by this potion could be killed by a simple Stun Charm?" Demirah asked.

"Possibly, but that isn't the purpose of my potion," Blaor said. "With the trace amounts of magic that radiates from us naturally, we can control the Muggles. Our merest suggestion will become their driving force. The magic that radiates from us will compel Muggles to obey."

"Wait,_ 'compel them to obey'_?" Kestrel interrupted. "That sounds an awful lot like the Imperius Curse."

"In essence, it is very similar," Blaor responded. "There would be no spell to cast, but the outcome is very much like the effects of the Imperius. The magic that radiates from us would flow through the Muggles. And since their resistance to any form of magic would have been destroyed, they will do whatever we say."

"How will this help our situation?" Godfrey asked.

"The Muggles know of us and are starting to hunt us down! What you are suggesting doesn't deal with alleviating this predicament!" Belova argued.

"But it does. Imagine a group of Muggles have cornered a witch. Perhaps they are planning on killing her. But she tells them to stop and leave her alone. This simple command will end any threat to this witch. The Muggles would listen to her words and would have to do as she says," Blaor explained. "Even a young magical child could control Muggles."

"Are you saying we somehow give all the Muggles in England this potion and then go door to door and tell them to forget about us?" asked Godfrey.

"No, neither the potions nor the commands of a wizard would affect memory," Blaor replied. "But we can tell them to leave us alone, not to hunt or bother us anymore and they would do just that. As to how we give the Muggle the potion is simple. My potion is very potent. All we would have to do is taint their water supply."

"How long would the effects of this potion last?" Hamelton-Jones asked. "Will we have to taint their water every few weeks or so?"

"We may need to make sure the potion is in the water supply for a few days, to make sure every Muggle is given a dosage. But after that, we would not need to reapply the potion ever," Blaor answered. "The potion permanently alters the Muggles' genetic make-up. And since their genetic code would be changed, they would pass on this magical susceptibility to the next generation. And this second generation would pass it to the next and so on. We wouldn't have to re-dose ever."

The members of the Wizengamot began speaking amongst themselves. Hamelton-Jones touted the benefits of such a potion, while the other four were concerned that it was too like the dreaded Imperius Curse. But Godfrey did not share in this discussion. He simple stared at Blaor as if silently judging him.

After some time, Belova announced; "I see a problem with this scenario: I fear that many of our kind would take advantage of this potion. Instead of just making the Muggles stop pestering us, I believe that many witches and wizards would use Muggles for more nefarious purposes. This potion would turn Muggles into nothing more than house-elves or worse."

"But that is not the intention of the potion," Blaor argued.

"Yes, but it can happen, can it not?" asked Belova.

"Anything is possible," Blaor relented.

"You're suggesting that we obliterate the Muggles' free will?" Belova asked.

"No, the Muggles would still have free will. They would continue to live their lives like normal. Just not when it comes to dealing with Magical folk," Blaor countered.

A vote was called for as to accept Blaor's plan or reject it. Out of the five Wizengamont members, only Hamilton-Jones voted in favor of Blaor's plan.

Godfrey, who had not voted, rapped his gavel on the desk. "Seeing the late hour, we shall end the session for the evening and resume first thing tomorrow." The Minister turned to Blaor and said, "Thank you for your time, Mr. Blaor."

Disgruntled over his loss, Blaor stormed out of the chamber. The wizard grumbled under his breath about _"narrow minded fools"_ and _"paranoid old wizards."_ He headed directly for the lift with the full intention of heading back to his home and lamenting this failure with a bottle of firewhiskey.

He mashed the call button when someone called out to him.

"Mister Blaor," Umbridge called out. The short witch waddled up to him and said; "The Minister would like to have a word with you."

"About what?" he snapped. He was quite bitter over the Wizengamot's reaction to his theory.

"He didn't tell me," the witch said. "But he did insist that it was rather important."

"Is it about my potion?"

"I'm not certain," the toad-like witch said with a little smile.

**x**

**x**

Hermione put the finishing touches on the meal. She was hoping Ron would be less callous than the last time she had fixed a romantic dinner. He had wolfed down the meal without uttering even a simple thank you. But she realized that he had been in a foul mood that day; perhaps he'd be thankful and mindful of his manners tonight.

Hermione waved her wand, and the platter of baked chicken floated to the table. The doorbell rang three times in rapid succession and then once again after a second of silence; Ron had arrived. She had finished the meal just in time. Hermione set her wand on the table, and walked to the door.

"Hello Ron," she said merrily as she opened the door.

Ron smiled nervously at his girlfriend, an eager sparkle in his eyes. Then, without warning, his features slowly twisted in rage. Before Hermione could ask what was wrong, he grabbed her roughly about the shoulders and fiercely tossed her backwards. Hermione crashed on the floor; the back of her head bounced off of the tile. Her vision was spinning slightly as Ron stepped into her parents' house and closed the door behind him.

**To be continued…**


	8. Chapter 8

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Eight

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and nonconsensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major cannon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from cannon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

In Susan's darkened bedroom, Carl was slowly and carefully pushing himself rhythmically into the red haired witch. She bit the tip of her tongue. Waves of pleasure washed over her as his organ massaged and stretched her inner walls. Carl had wanted anal sex, but Susan's bottom was still sore from the last time they did it that way, so she convinced him to do it traditionally. She knew that Hermione and Daphne thought having it in the bum was disturbing. They didn't understand just how thrilling it was to be sodomized.

Without warning, the door to Susan's room flew open and slammed against the wall. Susan was about to scream at the intruder for interrupting an intimate moment with her boyfriend until she saw Daphne's face. The black haired witch had tears streaming down her cheeks, and a dreadfully painful look in her eyes.

"What's wrong?" Susan asked and she pulled away from Carl. The wizard groaned pathetically as his member slipped out of Susan and into the cold night air. She grabbed her robe, throwing it over her naked body as she briskly walked to Daphne's side, forgetting her boyfriend and their interrupted shared moment.

"It's Hermione," Daphne choked out. "She's at St. Mungo's. She's been attacked."

"What?" Susan screeched. "How bad is she?"

"I don't know," answered Daphne. "A Healer fire-called me, but he wouldn't say what happened; just that she was roughed up pretty badly."

"Let's go," Susan said, and Daphne nodded. Both witches disappeared with a loud pop, leaving Carl naked and alone.

**x**

**x**

Harry couldn't fight it any more; the voice had dug up a need and desire in him. All he could do now was fantasize about what he should've done with Ginny and Cho.

He imagined what it would've been like to bend the Asian witch over a table and, after hiking up her skirt, how it would've felt like to gently pushed himself into her quivering core. Or what it could've felt like to have Ginny suck on his testicles as she massaged his staff. Once, to his immense enjoyment, he even imagined what it would've been like if both witches pleasured him at the same time.

With each fantasy, the unknown thing in the darkness grew and grew. Its power and intensity swelled every time Harry thought of Cho or Ginny in an intimate way. It seemed to feed on his carnal fantasies.

'Why stop with just those two?' the voice asked. 'Why limit your thoughts to Cho and Ginny? What about Hermione?'

'No,' he replied instantly. 'She's my best friend. Besides, she's Ron's girl.'

'Oh, please, like that would ever work out,' the voice challenged. 'Hermione's a wickedly bright and ambitious witch. Ron is nothing more than a lazy lump. He's threatened by her intelligence; that's why he constantly argues with her and automatically discounts her opinion. He's looking for someone to be like his mother; a witch who'll stay at home and take care of him while she raises the kids. Hermione's not that person.

'And she is a woman, not just your friend,' the voice continued. 'You've know what her body looks like under those school robes. You've seen her when she's worn her Muggle clothes. Don't bother denying the facts; your eyes have lingered on the swell of her breasts and her round arse.'

'Shut up,' Harry snapped. He told himself that it wasn't right to think of Hermione in such a detrimental and demeaning way.

'How is that demeaning? You find Hermione attractive,' the voice said. 'She would be flattered if you told her she was beautiful.'

'That's not what you're suggesting,' Harry shot back. 'You're talking about her in a sexual way.'

'And why not?' countered the voice. 'She's a beautiful witch as well as being intelligent and compassionate. She obviously cares for you greatly; and you for her. So why not think about her in a sexual way. It's only natural to do so.'

Harry did not answer. He had never thought about Hermione in that fashion. Hermione had always been very special to him.

'Even more reason to do so,' the voice argued. 'She has a special place in your heart, already. So why not expand on that feeling; make it grow.'

'It'll cheapen her,' Harry stated.

'In what way?' the voice asked. 'You believe that if you think of her as a sexual being, you'll see her as a lesser person? I'm not talking about using her for a cheap thrill and dumping her to the side. I'm talking about a mutually beneficial connection. You've both already connected with each other in an emotional way. That connection would only strengthen if you were to connect on a physical level as well.'

Harry tried once again to ignore the voice, but a sudden desire to run his fingers through Hermione's wild hair came over him. He wanted to feel her soft, warm lips on his.

The desire to kiss her rapidly grew into something much more primal. He wanted to feel her legs wrapped around his hips; to make love to her, make her back arch. He wanted to call out her name as he came deep inside her.

'That's it,' the voice said, gently urging him.

An image entered Harry's mind of him playing with the bookish witch's curly hair as she looked up at him while pleasuring him with her mouth. Harry forced the image out of his mind. He just could not allow himself to think of his friend in such a manner.

**x**

**x**

"Ron Weasley did this to you?" M. L. E. Sergeant Wright asked the assaulted witch for the third time. He had arrived shortly after the Healers began to work on Hermione, so he had seen some of the damage, particularly to her head and face. "M. L. E. Officer Ron Weasley?" he questioned yet again.

After Hermione reaffirmed who had raped her and where the attack had happened, Wright went to the Granger home to apprehend _"the suspect."_ It was clear to Hermione that Wright had his doubts as to who had actually raped her. As if the notion of one of his subordinates doing such a thing was preposterous and inconceivable.

The physical wounds she had received during the attack were healed in no time; a few charms and potions and all physical traces of the injuries disappeared, a sensation of pins being jabbed into her gums told Hermione that her tooth was growing back thanks to Skele-Gro. But she still hurt. And there wasn't a magical potion that would ease her anguish. The pain lingered around her chest, like a heavy weight pressing on her heart. Not just the fact that she was raped, but she was raped by the wizard who she considered her boyfriend; a wizard that she had known since they were both children. It felt like Ron had punched a hole into her chest and tore her heart out.

Questions plagued her mind: why did he do it? Was it her fault? Did she do something to provoke the rape? Worst of all; an anguished voice in her head wondered if she had deserved it?

The rational part of Hermione's brain discounted these thoughts. They were a normal emotional reaction to being raped. She told herself that she had done nothing wrong._ 'It's just false guilt,' _she told herself._ 'Every victim goes through this. I did nothing to deserve this!' _Even though she believed these negative thoughts to be baseless and untrue and that she was blameless, a small part of her mind continued to feel guilty in some form.

Then there were the dark thoughts. They were similar to the thoughts she had when she heard Pansy Parkinson had murdered a school bus full of children. Her belly twisted as a tiny corner of her mind imagined doing horrible tings to Ron in retribution. She imagined him writhing on the ground before her, begging for mercy. As with her thoughts concerning Pansy, Hermione tired her best to ignore these brutal desires.

A set of hurried footsteps drew Hermione out of her thoughts. She looked up to find her flatmates hurrying toward her bed. Both witches had obviously had been sobbing; their faces were etched with dread, worry, and tear stains.

Susan and Daphne rushed up to Hermione's bed. Both of them looked like lost and frightened children and neither knew what to say. Hermione tried to be brave and attempted to smile and say that she was all right. But her smile faltered, and for the first time that night, Hermione began to sob. Her two friends immediately engulfed her in an embrace and cried as well.

Two hours later, Hermione was discharged. Daphne and Susan refused to leave her side the rest of the night, going so far as to share the same bed as Hermione futilely tried to rest. The emotional pain of the attack, combined with the hatred generated by it, wracked Hermione for hours.

**x**

**x**

Tonks stifled a yawn as she trudged up the stairs of her parents' house. It had been a long day at work, and she could think of nothing better to do than crawl into bed, snuggle against Remus, and fall asleep. But the young Auror had promised to have diner with her mother and father weeks ago and she couldn't change her mind now.

"Wotcher, Mum and Dad," she greeted them as she walked into the house. Her parents had been standing a few feet in front of the door, as if they had been waiting impatiently for their daughter to come.

"Welcome home, dear," Andromeda returned with an overly forced smile.

"Mum, is everything okay?" Tonks asked.

"Everything is fine dear," the elder witch returned.

"Look, dear, we've brought you a present," her father, Ted, said stiltedly and pointed to a massive, gift-wrapped box standing off to the side of the parlor. The box dominated the room and was easily large enough to hold a double wardrobe.

"You two are acting weird," Tonks said, still eyeing her parents suspiciously. "Are you sure everything is all right?"

"Stop being such a nosey half-blood and open your present," a witch's cruel voice came from the shadows behind Tonks' parents.

Tonks grabbed her wand as Bellatrix Lestrange strolled out from the darkness and stood behind Ted and Andromeda.

"Mum, Dad, get out of the way!" Tonks ordered while trying to get a clear shot at the evil witch who stood behind them.

"Oh, please, don't make me laugh," Bellatrix said humorlessly. "I bested you and Moody at the same time. What prayer do you have against me when you're alone?"

"I've been practicing," Tonks retorted confidently. Ever since she was trumped in the Department of Mysteries by her evil aunt, the young Auror had redoubled her dueling training.

"Well, I hope you've been practicing a lot," Bellatrix said as she leaned on Andromeda's shoulder, casually dismissing the threat that Tonks posed, "because you'll have to duel him as well."

"Who's _him_?" Tonks demanded.

"That would be me," a cold voice announced.

Tonks' head whipped to the wrapped present in time to see the most feared dark wizard of her time slither out from behind the box. Lord Voldemort looked at Tonks, much like how a snake looks at its next meal.

"Oh my God," moaned Tonks. Her whole body turned as cold as the grave. She knew that she didn't stand a chance against Voldemort. Fear of her impeding death ravaged her spirit – so much so, that she lost control of her bladder. Hot urine trickled down her cold leg and pooled at her feet.

Voldemort chuckled, thoroughly enjoying the young witch's reaction to merely his presence. He hadn't even drawn his wand and he had already won.

"Don't worry, Nymphadora, we're not here to kill you," Voldemort said as if he was the Auror's best friend. "Bella and I are here to offer you a proposition. As a peace offering, I'll even allow you to keep you wand."

Tonks knew that he was just toying with her when he suggested that she should hold onto her wand instead of making her drop it. Voldemort's skill at dueling was legendary. Tonks realized that it would be pointless to even attempt to fight him.

"Let's unwrap your present shall we," offered Voldemort. He pulled his wand and waved it if front of the wrapped box. The bright paper and frilly bows were ripped off the box, as if dozens of invisible hands pulled at it.

There in the open faced box, dangling like marionettes stored in a trunk, hung her parents. Ted and Andromeda were naked and bound with lengths of barbwire. The metal prods dug in and punctured their skin causing tiny rivers of blood to slowly drip down their bodies. A short length of the wire was tied across their mouths, acting as a cruel gag. It cut harshly into their cheeks. Judging by the damage to their mouths, it was apparent to Tonks that every time they had tried to open their mouths, the barbwire dug into their cheeks and lips. Her parents' eyes, wide and filled with pain, stared at Tonks.

The Auror looked between the two sets of parents; the ones savagely bound in the box and the others who stood in front of Bellatrix, smiling unkindly back at Tonks. She knew that the couple that stood with Bellatrix was nothing more than fakes; frauds hiding behind her parent's features.

"Polyjuice is such a useful potion," Bellatrix said while sneering at her niece.

"Please let my parents go," Tonks pleaded with her head hanging low. She couldn't bear to see the pain that her mother and father were suffering.

"Unfortunately I can't do that, Nymphadora," Voldemort said without regret. "You see, I need you to do something for me and I'm using your dear parents as payment for that service." Voldemort glided to Tonks and stood next to her. "If you do as I say, then your parents will live. If you don't, well then, I'll make you watch as they die very painful and drawn out deaths."

"What is it you want me to do?" Tonks asked with hot tears spilled down her face.

"That's the spirit," cheered Voldemort, "ready and eager; just what I like to see in one of my followers."

Tonks' heart felt as if it had stopped beating. Her eyes grew even wider in terror.

"That's right, Nymphadora, you are going to become one of my Death Eaters," confirmed Voldemort. "You will act as a spy and do my bidding, or your parents will suffer terribly.

"We will keep them in our care at my castle, which is protected under the Fidelius Charms obviously, to insure that you do as commanded. These two," Voldemort pointed to Ted and Andromeda's duplicates next to Bellatrix; "will use polyjuice so that no one will realize that something's amiss.

"And don't think about trying to get help from one of your friends in the Order. I have another spy who has an eye on both the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix. If this spy even thinks that you are acting strangely, not only would your parents suffer, but I'll be forced to deal with your werewolf lover as well," he threatened.

"If, after a while, I feel that you have done a good enough job, I will free your parents," Voldemort concluded.

Tonks let out a sob, knowing that there was nothing to do other than give into Voldemort's wishes. To do otherwise would kill the people she loved most. She also knew that his promise of releasing her mother and father was slim at best, but she realized that it was the only chance she had.

"Now, kneel," Voldemort ordered.

With her knees trembling, Tonks lowered herself in front of the evil wizard.

"Very good, Nymphadora, now give me your left arm," he commanded. "It is time for you to receive my mark."

Tonks cried out in pain as the Dark Mark was burned into her flesh.

"In a few weeks' time, Bellatrix will come to you and you will do as she says," Voldemort said while Tonks gripped her left arm in agony. "This will be a test. If you complete this test, then your parents will live for another day. If not, they will die."

**x**

**x**

The first thing Ron saw when he woke up was his supervisor, Sergeant Wright, standing over him. Then Ron felt pain. His chest and face were on fire.

"Sit still," Wright ordered. "Your nose is smashed and a lot of your ribs are broken."

"What the hell happened?" Ron asked. His head was heavy and it was difficult to think clearly.

"Just shut up," Wright barked. "I telling you this as your boss; don't say an effing word. Not one word until you've talked with a barrister. Do you understand, Weasley? Don't say a single word."

Ron attempted to nod his head in the affirmative. But his head hurt so much that the best he could do was grimace.

Wright placed a Portkey around Ron's neck. The sudden jerk behind his navel sent jolts of pain through his head and chest. After a very uncomfortable and painful trip, Ron arrived in the M. L. E. holding cells.

Two M. L. E. Healers approached Ron. One performed some Bone Mending Charms on him while the other poured various Healing Potions down his throat.

While the Healer administered the third vial, Wright arrived in the cell.

"I'll contact your father, Weasley," he said solemnly. "He'll get you a barrister."

**x**

**x**

Draco was going mad. It had been weeks since the last time he had been intimate with Pansy. She had made it a point to stay away from him as much as possible. She went so far as to only speak to him when her duties as a Death Eater demanded it. The couple had gone on several Muggle hunting parties in that time. The screams and cries of their victims sung to Draco. Each and every time, he had grown so excited that his loins begged for release. But he could never gain that release because Pansy would not touch him.

He needed help; he had to get through to Pansy and tell her that she was the only witch for him. He had thought about speaking to another witch, to get a feminine point of view. Millicent came to mind, but he dismissed her as a dim witted fool. Draco then considered talking to his mother, only to realize that discussing sex with her would make him very uncomfortable. That left his aunt, Bellatrix.

He knocked on her door and waited for her to answer.

"What do you want?" she asked in an annoyed way. The witch was still disturbed she had been forced to associate with her blood-traitor sister and her mudblood of a husband and worthless daughter. Even though it was necessary in order to obtain the half-blood metamorphmagus as a spy, Bellatrix felt dirty for having been in contact with them.

"I… I need your help," he requested, hesitantly.

"Don't tell me; you need help with your love life?" Bellatrix asked.

"How did you know?"

"That silly bint of yours came sobbing to me a while back," Bellatrix said with annoyance. "She was whining that you used a Muggle."

The blond wizard was stunned. He had hurt his Pansy so much that she sought out Bellatrix for guidance. His betrayal must have been terrible for Pansy.

"Don't go soft on me, boy!" Bellatrix snapped when she saw the look of sorrow and regret blossom on Draco's face. "You are a Death Eater. You're to strike fear in those who are weaker than us. You're not to lament and pine away for a silly girlfriend."

"But I hurt her," Draco said guiltily.

"She took offense that you tortured a Muggle sexually," she shot back. "So you shoved your cock in a Muggle. What's the big deal about that? I could understand if you shagged another witch, but it was just a Muggle. A Muggle isn't a witch or a wizard, so it's not like you cheated on her.

"She should've been proud at the suffering you caused that Muggle," Bellatrix continued. "Pansy has to realize that wizards do such things in the heat of the moment. It's not personal nor should it be taken as such."

Draco reflected on his aunt's words. It was true; he felt nothing for those Muggles that he had used. They were just toys to him. But Pansy was special; she was the witch with whom Draco wanted to have children. There had to be a way he could show Pansy the truth of this.

"Could you talk to her?" requested Draco. "Make her come to her senses."

"Aren't you a Death Eater?" she asked patronizingly.

"Yes I am," Draco said, offended by her question.

"Then act like one," she snapped. "Don't sulk around and whine like some lovelorn teenager. Be a man! Take what you want. If Pansy doesn't see reason, you force her."

"How?"

"Oh, for pity's sake," Bellatrix groaned. "Use a love potion. A strong one."

"That's it," Draco said as realization dawned on him. "Perhaps I'll slip her Amortentia. That way she could look past my transgressions and see how much we love each other."

"You make me sick," Bellatrix hissed venomously. "You want to_ 'slip' _her a potion so she'll forgive your_ 'transgressions'_? Why must I point out that you did nothing to be ashamed about? You fucked a Muggle; that means nothing because a Muggle means less than nothing! Pansy should be the one seeking forgiveness for letting that trouble her. And you plan on slipping her the love potion like some smitten teenager. You're a Death Eater; act like one, damn it! A Death Eater takes what is his! You hand her the potion and order her to drink it. If she doesn't take it; you force it down her throat!"

"But I could never do that to her!"

"And why not?" she shot back, her voice full of cruelty. "She was the one who has been hurting you; denying your needs for because she doesn't understand you. She should be punished for that. You know what? Don't offer her the potion. Instead, bust into her room, pin her to the ground and force the potion down her throat. She deserves to be manhandled for her asinine actions."

Draco's face fell and Bellatrix felt an odd pang of guilt. Unlike her sister, Andromeda, who entered into an unnatural union and bore an anomaly, Draco was attempting to mend his relationship with a proper, pure blood witch. In order to continue their proud race and their rich traditions, Bellatrix came to realize that she needed to help her nephew. So, the witch decided to help him achieve this.

Bellatrix walked forward and placed her hand on Draco's shoulder. She said in an uncharacteristic soft and kind tone; "Once you do this, she'll understand that she was wrong. She will let you be the wizard you were meant to be."

**x**

**x**

The barrister wasn't much help. He had worked for Arthur before, but his specialty was tax law. He had no idea what to do in criminal cases. The only thing he could offer Ron was the same advice that Wright had given him: "Don't talk to anybody until I find a criminal barrister." He left Ron, and a majority of the Weasleys, in the holding cell with a promise of finding a barrister who could help.

Some of Ron's family had come straight away upon hearing the news. Arthur was openly supportive of his son; offering words of advice such as _"Hang in there"_ and _"Don't let it get you down."_ Molly wept hysterically at her son's predicament. Fred, George, and Bill spoke words of encouragement, but they had suspicion in their eyes. Even though they knew their brother wasn't capable of such actions, they also knew that Hermione wouldn't just make a story like this up. Ginny remained silent until the family started to say their goodbyes.

"I'm going to stay just a bit," Ginny said when her parents and brothers made their way to the exit.

Once Ron and his sister were alone, he demanded; "What the hell happened?"

"I don't know," Ginny said with shock. "You did everything the way she wanted, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did everything she wanted. Right down to the letter," Ron snapped. "I made as real as possible. And now she's claiming I actually raped her!"

"What happened exactly?" she asked.

"I watched those Pensieve memories she gave me," Ron began. "Then we did it. Just the way she wanted; I was rough and smacked her around a bit. But once I finished, she kicked me and then hit me with a Clubbing Hex."

Ginny, who had been pacing back and forth in front of Ron's cell, was lost in thought.

"Was kicking the crap out of me some sort of part of her little fantasy?" Ron asked.

Ginny paused in her pacing and her eyes grew wide, as if some truth was reveled to her.

"What did you just say?" she asked.

"I was just wondering if beating me up was part of her little fantasy," Ron repeated.

"Oh Merlin, I can't believe I didn't think of that before," Ginny said, her eyes wide with realization. "It's so clear now."

"Didn't think of what?" demanded Ron.

"Don't you get it, Ron? Hermione's always been bossy," Ginny stated. Her brother shrugged his shoulders, telling her he agreed with her, but not seeing her point. "She has to be in control. All the time. It's part of her nature. That's why I thought she was into this rape fantasy. It could've been a moment where she would let some else have control, with a nasty part of her turned on by that loss of power. But now I see it was just another form of control for her."

"What the hell are you saying?" Ron asked. He was confused, and because of the predicament he found himself in, the young wizard had no patience.

"Ron, this whole thing is just another way for Hermione to be the one in control," Ginny explained. "She told us that she wanted to be raped. But then she cries rape. Her claim gets you get chucked into Azkaban. She's controlling it all. It's some sort of twisted little kick for her."

"You're saying that she faked the idea of a fantasy so that she could accuse me of rape. To get me thrown in Azkaban?" he asked disbelievingly. "Hermione would never do that."

"Think about it Ron, she has always wanted to control what you do," Ginny pointed out. "She's told you what to do, everything from when and how to do your homework, to your adventures, and even that stupid S.P.E.W. Hermione is a control freak. She needs to have it. Without it she's nothing more that a bookworm with bad hair. This whole thing is the ultimate form of control. By accusing you of rape, she is controlling you by having you incarcerated in Azkaban and destroying your life! She is, literally, in control of your life!""

Ron was about to argue when he remembered all those times Hermione told him what to do, and even what to think. He recalled that almost every time he and Hermione were together, she was ordering him around; telling him to do this or that, down to every last detail. Ginny's words sunk in, and Ron imagined Hermione giggling over the fact that she was going to send him to Azkaban.

"Holy shit," Ron murmured as he went cold and his face turned pale. The gravity of his situation crashed down on him like a ton of bricks. "You're — you're right."

"I bet you that right now Hermione is laughing over this bind she's put you in," Ginny said. "She's got to be getting some sort of perverse pleasure out of this."

"We'll just tell everyone the truth," Ron said desperately. "Tell them that she planned this. That she gave me those Pensieve memories. That she told us of her fantasy about being raped."

"That won't work, Ron," Ginny said sadly. "We can't prove she gave us those memories. I can say that she did, but I can't prove it. I should have realized something was up when she handed them to me in a paper sack. There's probably no proof that she ever even owned those Pensieve memories. Even if I tell everyone the truth, that she gave them to me, she'll simply deny it and there'll be no way we can prove that she's lying. When it comes to the rape memories, it'll be her word against ours."

"You're right; your word and mine," Ron said, a gleam of hope was almost in his grasp and he reached for it. "The two of us against her; that should count for something, shouldn't it?"

Ginny shook her head sadly. "I'm sorry Ron, she's not just _claiming_ you raped her, she has physical evidence that _proves_ you raped her. You had rough sex with her. She had the wounds to prove it. Against that, our word counts for nothing. She thought this through. She laid a prefect trap. And we played right into her conniving hands."

Ron collapsed to the floor. He was going to Azkaban as a rapist. His girlfriend had used him to play out some sick little control fantasy. And now his life was ruined!

"There's a chance that we might get you out of going to Azkaban," Ginny said, trying to reassure her brother. "But we'd have to play the courts' sympathy."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"First, we say you were under the Imperius Curse," Ginny sounded. "There's no way for anyone to disprove that. But, we'll have to play up our only advantage to the court."

"How do we do that?"

"Not only do we show them that you're a good wizard; one who is a benefit to society," Ginny continued. "I mean, you're already a M. L. E. Officer, so that should help. Mum and Dad are in good standing with the Ministry so that'll help you as well. But you'll need to go one step further. You should get married."

"What?" he blurted out. "I don't think Hermione would be too keen on that idea. Besides, I'll be happy if I never to see that manipulative bitch ever again."

"I'm not talking about her, moron," Ginny said. "Hear me out; most Magistrates are old fashion pure-blood witches and wizards who believe in pure-blood families. If you play up to them and their beliefs, they might become more lenient. Show them that because of this incident; where you were a victim of the Imperius, you've decided to embrace the old ways of magical society and move on. And by marrying a pure-blood witch, you'll show the Magistrates that you are a prime example of to their ideal member of a good society."

"So you're suggesting that I find some pure-blood witch in the next few days and marry her. That way the Magistrate hearing my case will think I'm a good, pure-blood wizard?" Ron asked for clarification.

"Exactly," she replied. "And I know of an eligible witch: Mafalda."

"Mafalda? She's our cousin!" Ron barked.

"She's our second cousin's daughter; that makes her our third cousin or our second cousin, once removed, I think —I can never get them straight," Ginny argued. "Her folks have been trying to marry her off for a while. They'll jump at the chance. Ron, you need all the help you can get. And marrying a pure-blood witch will do a lot more help than you can imagine."

Ron contemplated Ginny's idea. It was desperate plan, but he was a desperate wizard. After a moment of thought, Ron nodded, signaling that he agreed with her plan.

"Great, I'll approach Mum and have her contact Mafalda's folks," Ginny said as she walked to the exit. "Stay strong, big brother. We'll get you out of this."

**x**

**x**

She, Harry, and Ron were making their way through the winding corridors of Hogwarts to their next lesson. Strolling by many magical paintings and suits of armor that lined the halls, Hermione spoke about what the instructor had taught them in their previous lesson. It didn't concern Hermione that she could neither recall what class they had come from nor what class they were heading to. Such things in dreams are inconsequential.

The young witch felt happy and safe. Within these walls, and with her two best friends, all the troubles of the world did not matter to her.

But, when the three friends turned a corner, Hermione could feel something. It was just to the side of their little group, lurking somewhere near the wall. Looking in the direction of where she felt this presence, Hermione only saw the old stone wall of the corridor. Even though she couldn't see it, Hermione knew that the presence wanted to hurt her.

Whenever Hermione felt threatened, she tried to reach out to Harry. She was always grabbing his arm or stepping behind his back. But in this dream, when her hand went to hold on to her best friend, he was just out of reach. Hermione quickened her pace so that she was well within arm's reach of the black haired wizard. But when she reached for him, somehow he was a few inches away from her outstretched arm.

Ron chuckled at Hermione's worries as the three friends continued to walk down the hall. He said in a light and happy tone; "There you go again, 'Mione, blowing everything out of proportion."

Hermione knew that unlike Ron, Harry would take the threat that loomed somewhere close by seriously. For some reason however, Harry seemed oblivious to the danger. He was facing away from Hermione, looking straight ahead. All Hermione had to do was call to Harry and he would notice the menacing presence. But when Hermione tried to speak, her voice was lost and no sound escaped her lips.

She could feel _it_ encroaching upon her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as if someone was standing right behind her. Once again, Hermione tried to take hold of Harry. But like before, he was frustratingly out of reach.

"You're way too tense," Ron said with a blasé attitude. "You just need to lie back and take it."

Without warning, Ron's hands wrapped around Hermione's arm like a steel vice. Hermione dug her heels into the ground and tried to pull herself free. Ron chuckled at the brunette's attempts, saying with a bright smile; "This is for your own good. Besides, you deserve it."

As Ron began to drag Hermione to the menacing presence, she tried shouting to Harry for help. Like before, her voice was missing and Harry continued to look straight ahead.

Suddenly, a gapping black hole appeared where the presence was felt. It was a void in space that threatened to swallow Hermione up. And Ron was dragging her toward it.

She tried prying his hands off her arm. But her fingers just passed through Ron as if her hand was made of mist or vapor.

Before he entered the void, Ron looked back at Hermione and said cheerfully; "This will be so much fun. Just you wait. You'll like it."

And he stepped into the blackness and was no more. The void had swallowed him whole.

Hermione screamed frantically as she was pulled to the blackness. Her feet touched the void and her entire body went numb as if it had sucked up every feeling she had. The void gobbled up her legs and Hermione woke up screaming.

The witch's frightened cry woke up Daphne and Susan who had been sleeping on either side of Hermione. Like the many times Hermione had woken up screaming over the pass few nights, the two witches quickly embraced her. They could tell her that everything was okay, but such words would be futile because they were falsehoods at best. So, Daphne and Susan just held onto their friend, hoping that their love and compassion would help her in her suffering.

She hated this feeling; the pain, anger, and helplessness. It ate away at her. As before, a part of Hermione's mind wove images of revenge. And slowly, ever so slowly, Hermione began to welcome these thoughts.

**x**

**x**

The lab and testing facility that Godfrey had supplied Blaor was not ideal. It was nothing more than a ramshackle shack with a few rooms on a small spit of land off the coast. But Minister Godfrey didn't want to draw unwanted attention. He therefore reasoned it would be best to run the tests on Blaor's potion in secret, and this lowly shack in the middle of nowhere would be perfect.

Blaor was ecstatic after he had talked with the Minister. Godfrey, to his credit, saw the benefits of Blaor's plans and had discreetly given the go-ahead. Discretion was required as to not alert the narrow minded members of the Wizengamot who had ignorantly vetoed his plan.

The potion master was given three assistants and ample supplies to create a test batch of his potion. Next, the Minister had acquired Muggle test subjects for Blaor. Blaor didn't ask where Godfrey had gotten them simply because he didn't care.

The five Muggles had a varied and diverse background, making a perfect spectrum with which to test his potion. The group was made up of three men: a successful business man in his early fifties, a low-income factory worker aged twenty-six, and a convicted felon of thirty-one — and two women: a dedicated twenty year old university student and a thirty-eight year old housewife and mother.

Blaor and his assistants observed the Muggles for two weeks and took notes on their actions before they were given the potion. This was done so that Blaor would have a solid basis to judge the effectiveness of his creation. Most of these observations occurred when the Muggles were allowed out of their separate cells for an hour each day. All they seemed to talk about was how they were being held against their will.

The business man, Jonathan Waterston, was a man who was driven by success and tried to bribe Blaor and his assistants with large sums of money. The housewife, Jane Combs, loved her children dearly and often begged to be allowed to go home to tend to them. Eric Simmons, the factory worker, who was a bit dim and slow; was convinced that the predicament he was in was brought on in retaliation over a labor dispute and had promised to drop his grievances if he was released. Lisa Brown, the college student would often cry and weep, fearing that her captors would harm her in heinous and despicable ways. But Jack Niederriter intrigued Blaor the most. Niederriter was a hardened criminal who had spent most of his adult life in various prisons for assorted crimes. Unlike the other Muggles who begged or pleaded for release, Niederriter would threaten Blaor and his assistants with bodily harm. "I'll cut yer bleedin' ears off, I will," he'd snarl. On two separate occasions, the Muggle even attempted to lunge at Blaor. Niederriter was easily felled with a Stunner. His boasts and actions often humored Blaor. The notion that an unarmed Muggle like Niederriter could harm a trained wizard was laughable. But by the same token, Niederriter's actions reinforced the reason why Blaor had to do this. One Muggle may not be much of a threat to a wizard. But when they numbered in the millions and with their deadly weapons such as explosives and firearms, they could become a considerable threat to magical people.

When he was satisfied that the Muggles' personalities and actions had been properly documented, Blaor moved on to the next step: testing the potion. The formula the potion master had created was so potent that all it took was one drop of it to properly taint fifty gallons of water.

A few days after the Muggles had unknowingly taken the potion, they became much more affable. On that day, they exited their cells for their hour of observations and immediately started begging for their freedom as they normally did.

"Silence!" Blaor ordered. The Muggles stopped their whining so quickly it was if someone had thrown a switch. One second they were chattering like a pack of monkeys in a cage. The next moment found them standing silently like a group of obedient and well behaved school children.

Blaor started out slowly with simple commands. With the Combs woman, he asked for her to reveal a secret. She offered some drivel about how she knew her husband had an affair with his secretary but had said nothing because she was afraid she would lose her children if she filed for divorce. Blaor then told Simmons to wash the floor of the facilities with a toothbrush. The Muggle smiled happily and said, "Right away, Guv."

Slowly, Blaor began giving the Muggles increasingly difficult orders. He had one of his assistants tell the Brown girl to drop out of school. She immediately agreed to the idea and pledged she'd do so the first chance she got. When Blaor asked her why she was going to leave college, the girl replied "I'm certain I've learned enough; I'll get a good job easily enough with what I already know."

Blaor and his assistants did not order Niederriter beyond telling him to be quiet and remain calm. Blaor did this on purpose; he was saving this defiant Muggle for a particular test.

Some time over the next week, Blaor suspected that one of his assistants used the effects of the potion to his benefit to seduce the Brown girl. He had walked in on the pair and their clothes were disheveled and their complexions' flushed. The fact that the assistant used the Muggle's lack of resistance for his own sexual gratification did not upset Blaor. He reasoned that it was further proof that his potion worked. He was upset, however, that his assistant had, by being intimate with the Muggle, could have damaged the scientific approach of the test.

After a week of trials, Blaor decided it was time to put his potion to the ultimate test. He gathered his Muggle subjects together in one large room. He sat at a small table and ordered the violent Niederriter to sit across from him. After the gruff Muggle took his seat, Blaor produced a large knife from his robes and placed it on the table in front of Niederriter.

"Pick it up," Blaor commanded. There was a fire in Niederriter's eyes that told Blaor that the Muggle wanted to use it to murder his captors.

Niederriter snatched the blade up. However, before he had a chance to thrust it at Blaor, the wizard commanded; "Stab yourself in the abdomen."

In the blink of an eye, Niederriter drove the knife into his stomach in one swift, smooth motion. The Muggle grunted in pain as the blade punctured his skin and intestines. The other Muggles gathered around the table reacted in fear and panic. The women screamed in terror while the other two men futilely tried to escape.

"Calm down," Blaor ordered causing the Muggles to instantaneously stop. He turned back to Niederriter and asked, "Why did you do that?"

"'Cuz I had the blade," he said simply, as if it was perfectly natural to stab himself in the stomach. Furthermore, Niederriter acted as if it was completely normal to have a blade jutting out of his belly. He didn't seem to mind that his life was ebbing away.

"What would you do if I asked you to twist the blade?" Blaor asked.

In response, Niederriter grunted as he savagely turned the knife in his belly, opening his wound even more. In a few seconds, the Muggle would be dead.

Blaor turned to his other subjects who were calmly watching Niederriter die like it was some dull, everyday occurrence.

"Doesn't it bother you that this man is committing suicide?" the wizard asked the other Muggles.

"No," one replied easily.

"You told him to," another said, as if Niederriter would be in the wrong if he hadn't followed Blaor's suggestion. The other Muggles nodded their heads in agreement.

Blaor had to suppress a shout of joy over this victory. His potion was a success! Now magical people could live their lives without fear of Muggles. A witch or wizard could walk in the open and not have to fear about hiding themselves from Muggles!

**x**

**x**

Susan picked up the post that the owl had just dropped off. It was addressed to her with elegant script. She opened and read:

_"Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley are proud to invite you to the joining of Ronald Bilius Weasley with Mafalda Morganna Prewett, beloved daughter of James and Ellyn Prewett on..."_

Susan dropped the invitation in disbelief. As far as she knew, Ron was still in custody and awaiting the trail for raping Hermione. And yet, he was now planning on marrying some witch Susan had never even heard of before.

At first, she thought of just tearing up the invitation and not telling Hermione about it. She was concerned that such news would be a blow to her friend. But Susan realized that Hermione deserved to know. She exited her room and found both Daphne and Hermione preparing dinner. With a sad look on her face, Susan handed the invitation to Hermione. Daphne read it over the brunette's shoulder.

"Oh, that son of a bitch!" cursed Daphne. "He's getting married?"

Calmly, Hermione set the invitation down on the counter. "He's probably doing this to show the courts that he's some sort of decent and honorable wizard," she speculated.

"Why'd you get this?" Daphne asked Susan, pointing to the invitation as if it were a vile thing.

"I suppose Arthur sent me one because he used to work with my Aunt in the Ministry," Susan replied. "I don't think he knows I'm friends with Hermione. I doubt they would've sent this to me if they did."

"I say we go castrate that bastard. That way this Mafalda bird won't have to deal with his sick desires," Daphne snarled. "Who the hell is she anyway?"

"Ron's mother's maiden name is Prewett," Hermione said. "She's probably some cousin of his."

Daphne continued to suggest various forms of punishment for Ron, while Susan remained silent. She felt as if she betrayed Hermione on some level by receiving an invitation to the wedding of the man who had raped her.

Hermione stared at the invitation for a moment. There was a time when she imagined being the one that Ron married. She remembered dreaming about holding his hands as they exchanged vows. How she had an elegantly worded speech where she professed her love for him. And he, being Ron, would utter a very short and direct _"I love you and, um, can't wait to spend the rest of our lives together."_

But now that dream was replaced by a nightmare; a nightmare born out of reality. Even though it had been weeks since the rape, she could still feel him thrusting. The hairs on her neck prickled at the thought of his hot breath as he forced himself into her. The disgusting image of his satisfied look as he ejaculated was still was fresh in her mind. She wanted to smash his face in order to wipe that image of his pleased smile from her mind.

"Fuck him," Hermione said toward the invitation. "Fuck him and everyone who associates with him."

Susan, feeling relief when Hermione didn't blame her for the invitation, attempted to lighten the mood by saying, "But can we still do what Daphne recommended. You know, castrate him."

Seeing the smiles on her friends' face helped to make Hermione feel a slight bit better. She decided to add to Susan's lighthearted comment.

"Why not? It's not like she'll be missing anything," the brunette witch said, holding up her hand. She placed her fore-finger and thumb apart a few inches, implying the length of Ron's manhood.

No one could say whose idea it was to bring out the bottle of fire-whiskey. They had forgotten such a trivial detail after each one had taken their third shot. The three sat on the floor in front of the couch passing the bottle around for a bit before Daphne and Hermione slowed their pace and were able to keep a level buzz. But Susan was not one to hold back. While the other two witches were sipping whiskey and cola, she was downing shot after shot.

"If that bastard gets out of prison to get married, we should crash the wedding," Susan slurred. "You know; throw a couple of jinxes at him. Make his dick even smaller."

"He isn't actually that small," Hermione admitted as she took another sip from her cocktail. "I mean I just don't want to seem overly bitter."

"Hermione, honey, you of all people have a right to be bitter," Daphne said and patted the brunette on the knee.

"Yes, proclaim to the world that Ron Weasley is a dickless putz," Susan agreed. "Hung like a bowtruckle. You've got the right, no – the _duty_ to belittle the bastard."

"Oh, don't worry; I don't have a problem telling people what Ron did. I just don't want people to think I'm fixated on size," Hermione defended. "Besides, it's not like I have much experience to compare sizes. Ron was the only one."

"First of all, no one will blame you if you insult Ron, even if it is an exaggeration. Second... onto a lighter, and more enjoyable topic; willys," Daphne said. Her face was red from a combination of alcohol and the naughty subject she was encroaching. "Size isn't everything. Sure bigger is better, but not always."

"I dated a bloke once, he had the_ 'dick of death'..."_ Susan began.

"Excuse me;_ 'dick of death'_?" Hermione interrupted.

"Yeah, big fucking thing," Susan said and held up her hands to show just how big. "I swear to Merlin I thought I was going to die when we first did it. But when it was all said and done...done fairly quickly I might add... he was one of the worst shags I've ever had. He just stuffed his cock in me and pumped away. No finesse or skill. He relied strictly on his size to satisfy me. And it wasn't enough on its own."

"The third wizard I slept with had an average sized set, but he sure knew how to use it," Daphne added. "He didn't just bang away. He took his time to make sure I enjoyed it."

"So you're saying that skill and talent are better than just sheer size?" Hermione asked and took another drink.

"The perfect wizard would have a nice sized willy and would have skill," Susan said and toasted her comment with a long swig straight from the fire-whiskey bottle.

"Size and talent aside, there's another aspect," Daphne added. "Love."

"Do tell," Hermione pressed.

"I had a boyfriend, back in our fifth year. Named Henry Smythwick. He was a sixth year Ravenclaw," Daphne began. "We dated in secret 'cuz my housemates would've murdered me if they found out I was associating with a bloke from another house. I was so much in love with him. In love I tell you. I dreamed about him every night. When we finally had sex, I found out he was a bit stunted down there. But you know what, it didn't bother me. 'Cuz I loved him. Every time we were together, it was special and it touched my heart. It was like magic."

"So what happened? If you were so much in love, why aren't you two still together?" asked Hermione.

"I was in love with him, but he wasn't in love with me," Daphne said with a bemused smile. "The fucker cheated on me. Stuck his tiny pecker in some seventh year slut from Ravenclaw. The point I'm trying to make here is if there's a connection with a bloke, it doesn't matter if he's small. There are ways of dealing with that."

"But if there was a bloke with a big thing, who had skill, and you loved; he'd be the perfect one, right?" Hermione asked, smiling.

"Oh definitely," Daphne said. "Connecting on all three levels so to speak. That would be the perfect wizard."

Susan looked as if she was open to add something to the conversation when the alcohol kicked in. The red haired witch flopped backwards and fell asleep.

Daphne's eyes lingered on her unconscious friend.

Leaning over to Daphne, Hermione asked "So, you're looking for the perfect wizard and not the perfect witch?"

The black haired witch blushed and said in without shame, "Look at her. She's beautiful in every possible way. She's smart and funny and her smile can light up an entire room. And she has fantastic tits." Hermione smiled at her friend's words. This was the first time Daphne had openly admitted that she was attracted to Susan. She continued her praise of the red haired witch. "She not a twig, ya know. Yeah, I'm skinny, but I've got small tits. Some of these witches use engorgement charms, they look like twigs with quaffles glued to their chests. Silly looking they are. Susan here is deliciously proportionate: big tits with nice wide hips,something to grab hold of, and an enticing, ample bottom to boot."

"So if you're attracted to Susan, does that mean you don't like blokes anymore?" Hermione asked, genuinely curious.

"I like wizards plenty. Their smell, the way they feel inside me. But if Susan woke up right now and said that she wanted me and me exclusively, I'd probably give up on wizards forever," Daphne said. "I wasn't exaggerating when I was talking about being intimate with someone you love; it is truly a wonderful feeling."

"Have you been with a witch before?"

"Yeah, after Henry cheated on my I hooked up with Megan Jones just to piss him off," Daphne answered. "I did it out of revenge at first, but then I found out I liked being with a witch as much as I like being with a wizard."

Daphne pulled her attention away from Susan and turned to Hermione. "I know this is sensitive, but what about you? Are you giving up on wizards?"

It was a valid question that Hermione had not yet considered.

"I'm not going to say that all men are rapists like Ron, but I can't say right now that it wouldn't be difficult to be with a man," she answered. "I'm afraid that trying to be intimate would bring up what happened to me that night."

"You need time," Daphne said.

"Yes, definitely," Hermione said. "But even with time, I don't know if I could ever trust someone again. Ron was one of my best friends for years. And he betrayed me so completely. I never imagined that a friend could do that to me."

Hermione felt another fit of sadness and anger coming on. Daphne reached out and gently ran her fingers through Hermione's kinky hair.

"What you need is someone who is kind and compassionate," Daphne said softly. "Someone to show you what it feels like to be loved properly; not hurt you."

A single tear escaped Hermione's eye and Daphne brushed it away with her thumb.

Hermione needed to be shown, she knew it. She needed someone to repair the damage in her heart that Ron had caused. Maybe it was the alcohol or it may have been Daphne's words combined with her hands touching Hermione's face and hair, but the brunette had a sudden compulsion, and she acted upon it. She leaned in further and placed her lips to Daphne's.

**x**

**x**

Things were progressing nicely. His Death Eaters had just accomplished over a dozen raids against wizard and Muggle targets during the past week. The Muggles were retaliating; abducting and capturing any witch or wizard they could get their hands on. But Voldemort did not fear them. His Death Eaters would strike and then disappear before the Muggles could react. That meant that the Muggles were capturing citizens of the Ministry, thereby causing more harm to Voldemort's enemy. The Ministry had issued many warnings urging witches and wizards to stay away from Muggles for their own safety. In essence the Muggles were helping Voldemort. The complications caused by the Muggles and the various Death Eater attacks had the Ministry reeling.

Once Voldemort's pet bonded with Potter and returned, he would crush the Ministry once and for all. His pet will kill all of his enemies. Voldemort's heart raced with excitement.

To brighten Voldemort's mood even further, a letter came from his spy. The spy had successfully derailed the Mudblood in her search for Potter. Even though Voldemort knew that Granger's efforts were pointless at this time because Potter was in another dimension being transformed into his loyal pet, the Mudblood needed to have been punished for her defiance.

The spy's message also went on to state how much she loved and adored Voldemort. Such petty things were below him, but Voldemort considered what would happen if he cultivated that silly emotion in his spy. Clearly, she was already fiercely devoted to him. But if he stroked the embers of her passion, she could truly be a valuable tool, willing to do anything for him. Conversely, this could also backfire on him. If he were to toy with the spy, she may become dependant on his affections and possible grow weak and absent minded; in Voldemort's experience, _affection_ and _love_ made people do such things.

Voldemort came to the conclusion that he would reserve using the spy's affection until he saw the moment to use it to his advantage.

**x**

**x**

The simple kiss had turned into a passionate one leading to gentle caressing. This, in turn, led to Hermione and Daphne sleeping together. Their judgment had not been overly impaired by the alcohol; it had just lowered their inhibitions.

For Hermione, their night of intimacy was a healing process full of passionate kisses and loving touches. It touched Daphne's heart and made her feel wonderful to make Hermione so happy. It was more than just a simple fling; the next morning, after waking up in each others' arms, they began to kiss and touch once more.

The next night found them sharing the same bed again. It was if they had both found something in each other. Their kisses and touches made them tingle and moan in pleasure. But it wasn't just a physical attraction either. Hermione found the trust and love that had been torn away; Daphne had found someone to share her thoughts, hopes and dreams.

Each time they made love, Hermione grew more and more confident. A few nights later, Hermione found herself taking the lead in their lovemaking. She would tend to initiate their intimacy and direct their actions more than Daphne did from that point on.

A week after their first night together, as the two lovers lay together, basking in their shared afterglow, Hermione asked "Is there anything you'd change about me?"

"What kind of a question is that?" returned Daphne, running her fingertips over her lover's mouth which was still puffy from her kisses.

"I'm talking about my looks," explained Hermione. "Is there anything you think needs improvement?"

"Not a single thing," Daphne answered confidently.

"What about my hair?" persisted Hermione, still unsure of herself.

"I actually like playing with your hair when you go down on me," the black haired witch said honestly. "It's fun the way it curls around my fingers."

"Well then, what about my teeth?" Hermione pressed. "Even though they're not nearly as big as they used to be, I still have a bit of an overbite."

"It makes you utterly adorable. And every time I see your miniscule, barely noticeable overbite, I just can't help to kiss you," Daphne said and proceeded to act upon her statement. She took Hermione's upper lip between hers and suck gently on it. Daphne's lips on hers made the brunette shiver pleasurably.

"Do you like my breasts?" Hermione asked after licking her lip, savoring the taste of her lover. "Wouldn't you want them to be a touch larger?"

"Why would you want them larger? They're at lest twice as big as mine," proclaimed Daphne.

Eyeing her lover's smaller breasts, Hermione playfully commented, "That's not really saying much is it?"

Daphne stared in a combination of shock and humor at the brunette. "Did you just say I was flat?"

"Not that I don't absolutely adore them, but yes, you're flat," Hermione said with a mirthful smile. "Like a wall with a set of tiny bumps for nipples."

"Oh-ho that's it," the black haired witch said and roll on top of her lover. "You're in for a thorough tickling!"

Hermione squealed as Daphne's fingers danced along her sensitive skin on the sides of her ribs. Daphne relentlessly tickled Hermione, well past the point where her lover's skin became flush and tears of laughter rolled out of her eye.

"STOP!" cried Hermione between peals of laughter. "MERCY!"

"Not until you apologize for saying I'm flat," demanded Daphne while continuing to tickle Hermione.

"I'M SORRY!"

"Now say that I have wonderful tittes," she ordered without easing up on her playful attack.

"THEY'RE WONDERFUL, MARVELOUS BREASTS!"

"There, now have you learned your lesson?" Daphne asked with a coy smile.

"I will... never mention... that you have... small breasts... again," Hermione said while trying to catch her breath.

"They are on the small side aren't they," said Daphne as she cupped her breasts. "But, I still like them."

"Not as much as I like them," returned Hermione. The brunette sat up and looked in Daphne's eyes. "You do realize that I must retaliate for the uncalled for tickle attack, don't you?"

"Sorry, love, but I'm not ticklish," stated Daphne as she dragged her fingertips up and own her own ribcage to prove this point.

"No, you're not ticklish there," Hermione said and pushed the black haired witch on her back. Hermione snagged her lover's leg, wrapped her arm around her ankle to hold it firmly in place, and proceeded to tickle the arch of Daphne's foot. Her howls of laughter echoed off of the walls.

After repaying Daphne for the tickles she had received, Hermione laid next to her lover and looked deep into her crystal blue eyes.

"Okay let me ask a hypothetical question," Hermione began. "If Susan dumped Carl and said she wanted to be with you, would you leave me?"

Hermione and Daphne's relationship was still new and budding, but it had already partially filled a void in Hermione's heart. She feared that if Daphne left her, that void would grow and consume her.

"So that's why you were asking all those _'Do you like my body'_ questions," Daphne said. She gave Hermione a half smile and answered, "Yes I still love Susan. But I'm also in love with you. I wouldn't leave you, because it would hurt me and it would hurt you."

Daphne kissed her lover. Hermione blushed, and comforting warmth grew in her belly.

"Of course, if Susan wanted to join in our little fun, I would be opposed to turning the two of us into a threesome," Daphne added with a wink.

"Be serious," Hermione said and her blush deepened. "I could never participate in a threesome."

"And why not?" Daphne playfully argued. She really didn't want a three-way; it would be too ludicrous to believe. But Daphne pressed on because she loved the cute way Hermione's nose crinkled when she disapproved of things. "Love is not a finite emotion. It can grow and blossom limitlessly. I think your love would encompass the both of us if Susan joined."

"You're just saying that because you want to shag Susan," Hermione said. She wasn't offended in the slightest, which surprised her.

"Yes, and after I shag her, I'd move on to shagging you," Susan said with a chuckle. "It's the best of both worlds."

Daphne snuggled up to Hermione and whispered in her ear; "Don't tell me the though of giving Susan an orgasm doesn't turn you on? That seeing those big tittes of her jiggle with each one of her rasping breaths as you drive her to ecstasy wouldn't make you wet?"

"No," Hermione said. Her ever-deepening blush told Daphne that she was lying not only to the black haired witch but to herself as well.

"Okay," Daphne said as she traced her fingers in a circle around Hermione's belly button. Slowly, she lowered her circle movements, inch by inch. Her fingers dragged across Hermione curly brown hair. "Let's just pretend shall we?"

Her finger brushed against Hermione's clitoris and the brunette gasped.

"Let's imagine that I am doing this to you," Daphne said and she closed her circle so that she was gently rubbing her lover's bud. Hermione began to breathe heavier. "And while I'm doing this to you, you are doing the same to Susan. Your fingers playing with her fiery red hair as she moans."

"Daphne, be serious," Hermione objected. A shiver washed over her as Daphne continued to stimulate her.

Daphne continued whispering to Hermione while she played with her. During her stimulation, Daphne would often ask questions such as _"What kind of noises would Susan make?" "Would she mew softly?"_ and _"Is she a screamer?"_

When Hermione climaxed, she clamped her lips around Daphne's and cried out passionately into her mouth.

After she caught her breath, Hermione commented lightly, "We couldn't just make her hop into bed with us. No, we'd have to take her to dinner first. _Then_ we make her hop into bed. And we would have to be cordial about it. We couldn't just approach her and ask if she wants to sleep with us. We would have to do it politely. We'd have to say _'please' _and _'thank you'_."

Both witches laughed at the absurd thought of them politely asking Susan to join them. Neither one believe it was plausible much less actually doing it even if it were actually feasible.

After a moment, Daphne asked; "What about a wizard?"

"Merlin, you _are_ insatiable," Hermione said with a chuckle. "First you want a witch to join us, and now you want a bloke as well."

"That's not what I meant to say," Daphne said. "I was wondering if you would ever be with another bloke. If we broke up, I mean."

Hermione chewed on her lip as she thought over her lover's question. After a moment, she voiced her thoughts; "I'm not sure. I know not all men are like Ron; that they won't do what he did. But that trust is gone. If I ever was with another wizard, it would have to be with someone I trusted completely."

"You mean someone like Harry?"

Hermione lost her breath; ever since her attack, she had completely forgotten about her best friend. He was out there somewhere, alone and more likely than not in pain and suffering.

"Don't worry, Susan and I have been going over the records," Daphne said and she stroked Hermione's hair. "We haven't come up with anything solid. But if we did, we would've told you."

Hermione calmed at Daphne's words.

"But my question is still valid; would you allow yourself to be intimate with Harry?" Daphne asked.

"Harry's my best friend," Hermione retorted. "I couldn't even begin to think of him in such a way. Even if he wasn't missing."

"And why not?" pressed Daphne. "He's handsome, smart, and compassionate. He's also strong and brave. And you trust him completely."

Hermione contemplated what Daphne had said. It was true, but Hermione still couldn't bring herself to think of Harry in that way. He was her best friend, such thoughts would be inappropriate.

"Hell, I'd fuck him," Daphne said. "After all the stories you told me about him, I'd jump him and ride him like a hippogriff the first moment I got."

"You'd have sex with him, huh?" Hermione said with a chuckle. She got up and crawled over Daphne's body. "I'll just have to chase those naughty thoughts you have about my best friend out of your head, won't I."

Hermione slid down Daphne's slender frame, kissing and nibbling random areas as she went, and came to rest in between her lover's leg. Daphne leisurely played with strands of Hermione's kinky hair as the brunette made love to her.

**x**

**x**

Thanks to his service as an M. L. E. Officer; the courts allowed Ron to be released on his own recognizance so that he could get married. It was a simple ceremony; only family members and a few friends were invited. Ron's father acted as Best-Wizard and Mafalda's sister acted as Witch of Honor.

As he took his vows, Ron came to realize why Mafalda was having difficulty finding a husband. Her red hair was limp and wispy. She had a large, bulbous nose while her chin was weak and recessed. Ron's new wife had small breasts and a large bottom. But it really didn't matter what she looked like. Ron needed this marriage to get his life back.

That night he consummated his marriage. As was customary in the old ways, Mafalda took a potion that would ensure conception.

The act wasn't as fun or invigorating as the time he lost his virginity, Mafalda just laid there silently as Ron pumped away until he came. He wanted her to thrash around and cry out, much like Hermione had. But he took comfort in the notion that Mafalda would not accuse him of rape, nor have him thrown into Azkaban.

**x**

**x**

Draco had been worried about having an awkward conversation with Professor Snape when he went to pick up the Amortentia. He needed that potion in order to sway Pansy. The teen had not spoken with his former mentor since they had both arrived at the castle. At first, Draco had looked forward to reuniting with the professor, to tell him of his adventures and how he had helped their Master. But he realized that their conversation would fall upon why Draco was in the potions lab, and he didn't want to have a discussion with Snape concerning his personal problems with Pansy. Thankfully, Draco was not forced to have the dreaded conversation as the Professor had been out on his daily constitutional, allowing the young wizard to simply retrieve the Amortentia potion. He left the lab with the thought of returning and having a pleasant conversation with Professor Snape after he had smoothed things out with Pansy.

Early the next morning, Draco snuck out of his room and made his way to Pansy's. Once there, he muttered an Unlocking Charm and entered. Pansy was still asleep as he predicted; he had shared a bed with the black haired witch long enough to know her sleeping habits. As quietly as possible, Draco crept up to her bed. He was so focused on his target that he did not see a spare piece of parchment lying on the floor and stepped on it. The ensuing harsh sound woke Pansy.

For a half second, Pansy looked around her room while her sleepy eyes tried to focus. Draco realized that she would react poorly if she found him in her room. Her reaction would be worst if she knew what he was planning. More than likely, Pansy would start screaming at him. And there was a possibility that she might even try hexing him out of spite. So, to avoid any further complications, Draco made his move.

He whipped out his wand and muttered:_ "Petrificus Totalus!"_

Pansy went as rigid as a board. Draco climbed on the bed and straddled his lover. She looked up at him with anger and fear in her eyes.

"Don't worry, my love," Draco said with his voice full of love and compassion. "Everything will be the way it should be in just one moment."

He waved his wand over her face and Pansy's mouth popped open. Draco pulled the glass vial from his robes and poured the contents into Pansy's open mouth.

"It's okay," he said soothingly and he held his palm over her mouth. With his free hand, Draco used his wand and canceled the Full Body Bind on Pansy. He then set his wand down and pinched her nose shut.

Pansy was terrified. She had no idea what the potion was. She could not spit it out thanks to Draco's hand covering her mouth. She fought against it, but after a moment, her body reflexively gulped, trying desperately to suck in air. The potion was swallowed in the process.

Draco saw the anger and fear dissolve away from Pansy's eyes. Soon it was replaced with adoration and love. It made her beautiful eyes shine brightly.

They spent the whole day being intimate and holding each other. That night, Pansy joined Draco on his Muggle hunt. She held down a young Muggle while Draco tortured the girl in a most heinous manner. Then Pansy and Draco made sweet love while the Muggle's body was still warm.

**x**

**x**

Susan, Daphne and Hermione sat in the back of the courtroom. All three had their eyes locked on Ron as he stood in the dock. Hermione had just gotten back from the witness stand and was furious. Ron's barrister had not disputed any of the testimony Hermione had given. He even went so far as to admit Ron had in fact raped the young witch. But the barrister then had the audacity to ask Hermione if she was familiar with the Unforgivables, specifically the Imperius Curse.

"Yes, of course I know what it is," she had snapped. "Are you implying that Ron was under the Imperius when he raped me?"

"Yes I am, Miss Granger," the barrister had said. "It is an unfortunate occurrence in these dark times."

"Well, you are wrong, sir," she hissed. "Ron had used our secret code when he had knocked on the door. The only way he would be able to do that was if he wasn't under the Imperius. Only Ron and I knew the code; no one else knew it. If he had been under the influence of the Imperius, then the person who cast it would have had to know the code, which they obviously couldn't. Therefore if he was under it, he would've just knocked and not used the sequence of doorbell chimes we had come up with."

"Perhaps he was placed under the Imperius after he had knocked," the barrister had suggested.

"Then I would've heard them, wouldn't I? I would have heard them shout the incantation!"

"Miss Granger, you went through a very traumatic experience," the barrister stated patronizingly. "No one here expects you to recall everything that happened to you that day."

"You arrogant—" Hermione began to argue when the Magistrate cut her off.

"I will not tolerate such outbursts, Miss Granger," he turned to Ron's barrister and asked: "Do you have any further questions?"

"No, milord," he replied.

"You may be excused, Miss Granger," the Magistrate said firmly.

After Hermione had begrudgingly retaken her seat, the defense rested. The Magistrate went into his chambers to deliberate.

A few short minutes later, the Magistrate returned and began to give his judgment. Ron was as white as a sheet and looked as if he was about to faint. Hermione desperately wanted the Magistrate to pronounce Ron guilty, but she had a nagging feeling Ron was going to get off scot-free.

"As defense counsel stated; we live in dark and dangerous times," he began. "Danger lurks around every corner and no one is to be trusted. But this case is about trust; do we believe Miss Granger when she claims she was savagely attacked by Mr. Weasley? Or do we believe Mr. Weasley when he claims to have done that terrible deed under the influence of the Imperius Curse?

"To find the truth we must delve into both the accused and the victim. Mr. Weasley is a Magical Law Enforcement Officer who is recently married and is expecting his first child in few months. Mr. Weasley also has a proper family with a long and rich history of being light sided wizards and witches. Miss Granger is a dedicated Muggle Liaison agent, but we know nothing of her family or their history.

"It is the finding of this court that Mr. Weasley was in fact under the effects of an Unforgivable Curse and therefore not at fault for his actions." The Magistrate banged his gavel and announced "Mr. Weasley, you are free to go."

Every Weasley in the courtroom jumped up and hollered for joy. They rushed Ron and embraced him. Ron pushed his way through and kissed his wife and placed his hands lovingly on her belly, over their child that was growing in her womb.

Hermione fought back the tears of anger. The Magistrate had discounted the facts and sided with Ron simply because he was a pure-blood and she was Muggle-born. She wanted to hex everyone in the courtroom. To make them feel a fraction of the pain that she had suffered. But she was above that. Instead she stood up and stomped out of the room with Susan and Daphne in tow.

**x**

**x**

While stuck in this unending void, Harry came to realize that the part of him that wanted to imagine seducing Hermione also had the same dark desires to hurt those people who had wronged him. This sexual desire was coming from the exact same dark place in his mind that wanted to strangle Petunia.

In order to avoid his urge to seduce his best friend, Harry focused on the hate and rage that filled him. He at first imagined simple things. He visualized smashing his fist into Voldemort's snake-like face, beating it to a bloody pulp. Then he would take solace in the thought of snapping Bellatrix's neck like a twig.

Slowly, Harry's simple images turned more complex and in-depth. His mind wove stories and scenarios. He somehow had escaped wherever he was and found himself back in the dungeon where Voldemort had murdered those witches. In his mind's eye, Harry was no longer a starved and weak little boy, but rather a large and powerful man. The wizard sprang up and ran up the stairs. Two Death Eaters tried to stop him, but Harry tossed them aside as if the were nothing more than rag-dolls. Blindly, Harry ran down a corridor and rushed toward an ornately decorated door. He ripped through the door like it was paper and entered Voldemort's throne room. Before the evil snake could react, Harry pounced on him. His fingers dug into the villain's face. He tore Voldemort's pale skin from his bones as if his fingers were razor sharp talons. Voldemort howled in agony while Harry continued to rip pieces of his face off; tossing huge chunks of bloodied flesh over his shoulder, sending the gore in arcs through the air.

A burning desire warmed Harry's soul while he mutilated his enemy's face. It was brutal revenge, but he took pride in causing Voldemort such intense pain. Harry did not lie to himself and say that he felt good about hurting Voldemort because of the countless people he had killed, or even more specifically Romilda Vane and those seven other witches he had killed in front of Harry. It was not as noble as that; Harry did this mostly because of the pain that he had endured thanks to Voldemort. His parents were murdered by Voldemort before he had gotten a chance to know them. This forced Harry to live with the Dursleys, which meant living through years of neglect and abuse. Then there was Harry's recent torture; weeks of pain and anguish. Harry took selfish consolation in Voldemort's pain as his fingers scraped against bone.

Heeding their master's cries, several Death Eaters, including Bellatrix and Snape, stormed into the chamber with their wands drawn. They fired several hexes and curses, but the magic just bounced off of Harry's skin harmlessly.

Harry jumped off of Voldemort and soared at two anonymous Death Eaters. He tore out the throats with his bare hands before turning to Snape. Harry's leg shot out and his foot collided with the greasy bastard's knee, snapping it backwards. Snape crumbled to the floor and whimpered pathetically. Harry felt good, looking down at Snape as he wallowed in pain, much like the potions master had looked down at him the many times he berated the young wizard in his potions lessons. A fire coursed through Harry as he stomped his heel down on Snape's skull, crushing his bone and pulping his brain like an over-ripe fruit.

Once Snape had been taken care of, Harry hurtled at the whore, Bellatrix. She cried out in fright as Harry drove his thumbs into her eyes. As the bitch's blood mingled with Voldemort and the two unknown Death Eaters' blood on Harry's hands, his heart raced excitedly in his chest. Her screams eased the memory of all the pain she had given him.

A powerful shiver ran through Harry's body. Even though it was just his imagination, causing so much pain to the people who had hurt him thrilled him. It exhilarated him so much that he wanted more; he needed more. His mind quickly brushed the image of Voldemort's chamber aside, replacing it with the Dursley family kitchen.

Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley were eating at the kitchen table, oblivious to the fact that Harry had just appeared behind them. He stood there, naked and dripping with the blood of his enemies. Just basking in the notion of what he was about to do to the people who were his family in name only.

He snatched the frying pan from the stove. The metal was still hot from the bacon Petunia had just cooked. Snarling like a wild animal, Harry crossed the distance between himself and his relatives in a blink of an eye. He swung the pan like some smoldering club down on top of Vernon's head. A satisfying crunching sound accompanied by a spray of blood told Harry that his uncle's head had been cracked open. Blood flowed from the shattered crown of his skull. The fat man immediately started to make a sick gurgling moan and he slumped onto his breakfast.

Harry tossed the pan aside and jumped over the table, tackling Dudley to the floor. Harry pinned his fat cousin to the ground, very much like how Dudley had done to him hundreds of times in the past. The obese brat screamed and cried as Harry's fists flew. The naked wizard slammed his fists into Dudley's chest and fat belly. He could feel his cousin's ribs break under his fists; the fragments of bone piecing the boy's lungs. Dudley wheezed and gurgled as his lungs filled with blood. Harry smiled, knowing that Dudley would soon drown in his own blood.

Now that his uncle and cousin were finished, Harry turn to the one who was supposed to protect him the most; Petunia. In a flash, he stood before her and wrapped his gore covered hands around her scrawny neck. The woman's eyes bulged and she desperately tried to claw and pull Harry's hands away from her. Her struggles were as useful as pawing at a rock. Harry looked down at his mother's sister as she turned blue. This woman should have loved him like her own son, but she chose to hate him instead. For that, Harry would make her pay. Her mouth opened and closed, trying to gulp air. Veins bulged and turned a dark blue all over her face. In a matter of seconds, the woman's face turned from blue, to purple, to almost black. Then it turned pale and she stopped struggling. Harry could feel her pulse cease under his palms, but he did not release his grip. He basked in the feeling of her lifeless body as it dangled from his vice-like grip.

A few moments later, Harry dropped the corpse. The thing in the darkness seemed to grow slightly, and the voice spoke. 'That felt good, didn't it?'

Harry would have been lying if he said it didn't. He felt revitalized and vindicated. So much so that he felt blood rush to his organ. Within seconds, he became so erect that it felt like steel. He was so hard that it physically hurt.

'Looks like you've got a problem there,' the voice mocked. 'Might I suggest something?'

Harry knew what the voice was going to suggest. It wanted Harry to imagine Hermione. He still felt wrong about such thoughts and snapped, 'I'll do it myself.'

The location in his mind changed from the Dursley kitchen to the Burrow. Harry willed a copy of Cho and Ginny into existence. The two witches stood before Harry, neither of them was shocked or frightened by his nude, scarred, and gore covered body.

Harry imagined the witches overjoyed that he had returned. They threw themselves around his neck and kissed him as they wept for joy. Harry knew that Ginny might have reacted like this in real life, but he knew Cho would not. But this was his fantasy and it was going to play out the way he wanted.

The witches began to lower themselves into kneeling positions. Once they were on their knees, they looked up at Harry. At this point, their features became muted; as if Harry's mind had forgotten what they looked like. They still had their black and red hair respectively, but he couldn't seem to make out what color or shape their eyes were. Their features seemed to slip from his mind. He could not even see how they smiled. It didn't really matter to Harry. Regardless as to what they looked like, he needed them for his release. As long as he could accomplish that, it would not bother him if he couldn't focus on their appearance.

The red haired witch who used to resemble Ginny ran her tongue along his shaft while the black haired one suckled his balls. After a moment, the two swapped places. The black haired witch's tongue traced the bulges created by those half-spheres and his veins that ran all along his rod.

Once he had grown satisfied with their oral skills, Harry pushed the red head onto her hands and knees. While he positioned himself behind her, the black hair witch pulled up the red head's skirt and lowered her knickers, giving Harry access. Gently, Harry pushed his manhood into her. The witch moaned pleasurably; it was husky grunt, one deeper than Harry imagined Ginny would let out.

After three thrusts, he pulled out and grabbed the other witch by her black hair. He pulled her to his organ and made her take it into her mouth. As she worked his member, Harry saw that the black haired witch began to change slightly. Her skin grew paler and paler and her eyes, which Harry could not make out a few moments before, turned to a sparkling, crystal blue. Again, this did not concern Harry. So long as he could satisfy himself, it didn't matter what the witches looked like.

Harry let the black haired one go and pushed himself back into the red head. He kneaded her buttocks and slowly the orbs grew under his hands. In a second or two, he was no longer driving himself into Ginny's petite and slender frame, but a much more voluptuous witch. He ran his hands over her pleasing curves.

While he continued ramming the now curvy witch, the black haired one stripped naked and lay on her back. She spread her legs wide and beckoned Harry. He complied; Harry left the red head and moved on top of the other witch. She purred as her penetrated her womanhood.

Harry reached out and began playing with the red head's folds while he made love to the blue-eyed witch. Their combined moans and cries made Harry's heart race. He could sense the thing in the darkness swell and grow.

Suddenly, Harry felt a pair of small hands on his back followed by a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck. Turning, he looked into Hermione's brown eyes. Unlike the other two witches whose features were not clear, Hermione was vivid and real. It was as if she were standing right in front of him. Harry tried to erase her from this fantasy, but her image persisted, stubbornly denying his efforts. He recoiled away, trying to put distance between himself and Hermione.

"Shh, Harry. Its okay," Hermione said in a smoothing tone. "I want this to happen."

"No," Harry said. "What about Ron? He wouldn't like me to think of you like this."

"I've told you before; Ron isn't a man. He never will be," she said and dropped her robes to the ground, revealing her alluring naked body. "I need a man, Harry. A real man. Please be that man."

A part of Harry wanted to resist. But another part desperately wanted to feel Hermione; to touch her, to hold her. Even though he knew this Hermione was not real, the desperate need to feel her burned within him. Tentatively, Harry reached out and cupped her face. He pulled his best friend forward and kissed her lips. They were soft and warm. His tongue slid across her lips, and she opened her mouth, granting him entry. His faced heated up while his tongue gently and sensuously danced with Hermione's.

After a moment, Hermione pulled away. With her lips full and puffy, she pleaded, "Please be that man, Harry."

He knew she was giving him permission. With his hands still cupping her face, Harry guided her down to her knees. He rolled his head back when she took him into her mouth. The sensation was so real and intense.

He pushed her onto her back and knelt in between her legs. She smiled at him as he bent over and kissed her flower. A moan escaped Hermione when Harry ran his tongue over her folds. Harry could've sworn that he could taste Hermione, even though he knew it had to be just an imaginary impression.

The other two witches had not been forgotten. While Harry worked his tongue and lips on Hermione's womanhood, the two witches took turns stimulating him with their hands and mouths.

Once Hermione was truly wet, Harry positioned himself over her. The brunette reached down and took hold of his manhood and guided him into her. She held her breath as Harry slowly slid his entire length in. She let out a shuttering breath when Harry came to rest.

"Am I that man?" Harry asked, looking deeply into her eyes. The feeling of her hot sex wrapped around him made his loins ache.

"Yes," she groaned out and Harry began to move rhythmically. Hermione wrapped her legs around his hips.

The other witches would stroke, kiss and caress Harry as he made love to Hermione. One would gently massage his scrotum while the other sucked and licked his nipples. Their fingers traced the intricate scars covering his body. They would also stimulate Hermione during this time as well. Licking and tweaking her nipples, or reaching in between the two lovers to rub her clitoris.

Hermione's eyes sparkled and her inner walls constricted around his manhood. A low, soft moaning came from her mouth as she climaxed.

A short while after she came, Harry climaxed. It was as if a freight train had hit him. Every fiber of his being burned with passion. Panting, Harry collapsed onto his lover.

**x**

**x**

Susan was getting all dolled up in her best robes and most expensive make-up. She had spent over an hour styling her short red hair. Tonight was going to be a special night, she could feel it. Simple, yet elegant pearls dangled form her ears. The earrings had been a present from her Aunt before her murder and therefore held a special meaning for her. It was as if Susan was carrying a piece of her beloved Aunt when she wore the earrings. Susan wanted her Aunt to be with her tonight when Carl proposed.

He hadn't said anything about asking her to marry him yet, but when Carl had set up this date, he said he needed to discuss something very important with her. Susan came to the logical conclusion that he would propose. They had been dating for months now and getting engaged was the next logical step.

Susan walked out of her room and presented herself to her roommates.

"How do I look?" she asked while presenting herself like a runway model.

"Wow," Daphne answered.

"Stunning," Hermione added.

"Tonight's the big night," Susan said and checked her hair once more, making a few minor adjustments here and there.

"So you've told us," Daphne said under her breath. "A hundred times in the last hour alone."

"Who knows, maybe you two will follow me and get married yourselves," Susan said with a glow to her cheeks. "The only problem is that I can only be Witch of Honor for one of you. Although you two can share me."

Susan had walked in on Daphne and Hermione's lovemaking shortly after the debacle of Ron's hearing. At first she was stunned. But then she realized that Hermione and Daphne were good for each other and gave them her blessing.

Hermione looked at her lover and said to Susan; "I think it's still a little too soon in our relationship to talk about marriage or any other official union."

"Still, if you two get hitched, I'll be the first to know, right?" Susan said.

"You bet you will," Daphne said with a fake smile.

With an excited squeal, Susan bid her two friends goodbye.

Susan's happy news had hit Daphne like a ton of bricks. The black haired witch was still holding out hope that she had a chance to be with Susan. But the glowing smile on Susan's face over the thought of being married to Carl smashed Daphne's hopes.

Hermione smiled in a supporting way at her lover. She didn't view Daphne's desire to be with Susan as cheating, per se. She hadn't actually come to agree with Daphne's theory about love being infinite, but Hermione wanted to see her girlfriend happy. And if that meant that she had to share Daphne with Susan, she would hopefully accept it.

Once they were alone, Hermione turned to Daphne and asked "Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah," Daphne said as she absently played with the fringe on the couch, not being able to look into Hermione's brown eyes when she spoke.

Hermione knew that Daphne was lying. She placed her hand on her lover's shoulder and offered, "Let go make love."

Daphne smiled. It wasn't a big smile, but it was a real one. "That would be nice."

"And as a present to you," Hermione said and she pulled out her wand. She tapped the wand to her brown hair and it magically turned red. "While we make love, you can pretend I'm Susan."

Daphne's eyes shimmered with joy. "Thank you, Hermione."

"Oh no. For the next hour, you can only refer to me as_ 'Susan'_," she ordered.

**x**

**x**

Susan was about to burst. Carl had taken her to Chez Alberich, a very classy wizard restaurant in Diagon Alley. As they waited for their meal, Carl continuously looked around nervously, as if waiting for something. Susan knew that he was waiting for the right time to pop the question. Any second now, he'd get down on one knee and ask for her hand.

"We need to talk about us," Carl said, his tone was serious.

"Yes," Susan replied with hope and love in her heart. Carl had made her so happy these last few months; she couldn't wait to be his wife. Images played out in her head of growing old together with Carl and bearing his children.

After gulping down a sip of his cocktail, Carl announced "I think we should see other people."

Susan's heart felt like it stopped beating.

"_Wh_—what?" she asked with a frog in her throat.

"I think it's time for us to move on," he repeated.

"You're breaking up with me?" she asked with a voice that was barely above a whisper. She prayed that she was misunderstanding him. If not, her hopes and dreams had just been shattered.

"I mean it was fun and all. It's just time," Carl stated.

"It was_ 'fun'_?" Susan asked scathingly. "It was just _'fun'_?"

"Yeah, it was," he replied. "Don't make a big deal out of it."

"You told me that you loved me," Susan said in a loud voice so that the people at the tables around them could clearly hear. "And now you say it was just_ 'fun'_!"

"Don't tell me it wasn't fun," Carl said.

"You said you loved me!" she shouted.

"Don't make a scene," Carl pleaded, while looking around nervously.

Susan wasn't about to listen to him, but the stares from the people around her bothered her. It was bad enough that she was getting dumped; she didn't need an audience.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize that you were so into us," Carl said with embarrassment.

"I was so into_ 'us'_ because you said that you loved me like no one else before," Susan hissed.

"I said that?" Carl asked rhetorically and scratched the back of his head. "It must have been in the heat of the moment."

"You shit," Susan spat. Tears flowed freely down her face.

"C'mon Suze. Don't do this," he appealed. "I'm sorry you took what we had for something more than it was."

"And what was it?" she demanded. "What was it to you?"

"Sex," he replied earnestly.

"That's all?" she said. Her blood, which had gone cold, now started to burn in her veins. "All those late night conversations where you told me I was the best thing in your life were just an excuse to get inside my skirt?"

Carl fidgeted as if she had struck a nerve. He looked around as if he was trying to find the quickest escape route.

"You little fucker!" Susan blurted out. She quickly regained her composure. She locked eyes with Carl and demanded. "Was the only reason you stayed with me because I like anal once in a while?"

The wizard's guilty silence told Susan all she needed to know.

"You are such a shit," she growled.

"Well, maybe I'd stay with you if you could give head properly," Carl shot back.

"What?"

"You're horrible at it," he said. It was clear that he was retaliating out of spite and anger. Carl was trying his best to hurt her in a petty way. "Yeah, the buggering was brilliant. But I swear to Merlin, I had to force myself to stay hard when you would try and suck me off."

Susan was about to continue her argument when the restaurant manager came to their table and asked them to leave. "Your conversation is bothering the other customers."

Shooting him one final hateful glare, Susan got up from the table, knocking over her chair loudly in the process, and stormed out.

**x**

**x**

It was wonderful. Even though Hermione had only changed the color of her hair, Daphne was deeply touched by her lover's show. At one point, while Hermione was orally stimulating Daphne, she paused and ordered her once more to call her_ 'Susan.' _When ecstasy claimed Daphne, she joyously called out the red haired witch's name to play along with the moment.

Now as they cuddled in the afterglow and Hermione's hair had changed back to its natural color, Daphne decided to return the favor for her lover. She wanted to give Hermione the fantasy the brunette witch had; even if Hermione herself didn't know what that fantasy was.

Daphne got up and placed herself on top of Hermione so that their hips were laying on each others. The black haired witch slid one of her hands down her lover's belly and her palm came to rest on her patch of curly hair. Daphne's fingers trailed down and hovered over her lover's petals. Hermione's heat of anticipation was intense.

"Hermione, look into my eyes," Daphne requested which Hermione gladly complied. "I want you to pretend I'm someone else."

Intrigued as to what witch Daphne had in mind; Hermione asked; "Who are you going to be? Susan? Or some other witch? I know, one of the Patils."

"Think of me as Harry," she replied.

Hermione was about to protest. She had this conversation with Daphne before and she had tried to tell Daphne that she was not interested in Harry in that way. But her protests were silenced when Daphne slid her fore and middle fingers into Hermione's center. Hermione gasped as a wave of pleasure washed over her.

"Pretend my eyes aren't blue," Daphne requested. "They're bright green."

The thought of having another man on top of her, even if it was just pretend, frightened Hermione. It was too soon, she told herself. She was about to tell Daphne to stop when a part of her mind did as her lover requested; she imagined brilliant green eyes looking down at her. Another shiver passed through Hermione. It wasn't caused by her lover's touch, but by those green eyes.

"Imagine that my shoulders are broader and that I'm heavier. Like Harry," Daphne urged. "When I say your name, think of how Harry would say it if he was inside of you."

Hermione's breath came out in a slow, shuttering moan. In her mind's eye, she could see what Daphne had described and it both thrilled and aroused her; the thought of Harry on top of her. She imagined her lover's hair was shorter and unkempt like Harry's. As she ran her hands over Daphne's face and chest, she pretended she was her best friend; small breasts became strong pectorals in Hermione's mind. She pretended that the stubble on Harry's chin tickled her palm as she caressed Daphne's face.

Slowly, Daphne began to pump, using her fingers as a makeshift phallus. Her digits slid in and out of Hermione's womanhood.

It didn't take long before Hermione became lost in the moment. She wrapped her legs around her lover's hips, not just pretending they were Harry's, but actually forgetting that it was Daphne on top of her. She was so enthralled that she could've sworn Harry was making love to her. Her hands slid all over Harry's body. She found herself tracing her fingertips over Harry's infamous scar; the rough, jagged line stood out against his smooth skin.

"Does this feel good, Hermione?" Daphne asked. But her voice wasn't her own in Hermione's mind. Instead it sounded low and deep, like Harry's.

"Oh, god, Harry," she moaned out. She started to feel the pressure build, slowly and slowly. The image of Harry's weight pressing down on her while his manhood filled her up was driving her wild. "Harry, I'm going to cum... make me cum," she pleaded.

Then it hit her. She cried out as her muscles contacted and twitched uncontrollably. A fire erupted in her loins, and it instantaneously engulfed her. The fire rapidly shot up her spine and wracked her brain. With a guttural and animalistic cry, Hermione shouted out,_ "Harry!"_

After it was over and Hermione's body was still tingling, Daphne let her full weight lay on her lover. She leaned next to Hermione's ear and asked "Was it good for you?"

Hermione would've been lying if she said it hadn't. But a part of her felt dirty. Not because she had used the image of her best friend to get off; in that way, she felt surprisingly complete, but because Harry was still lost and in danger. Harry was somewhere, alone and hurt. And Hermione hadn't been able to do anything about it.

**x**

**x**

Harry was imagining again. He didn't do it to feed the thing in the darkness. Rather he did it because it made him feel good. The once dark and disturbing thoughts now made him feel complete.

In the current scenario that played out in his head, Harry had dug his fingers as if they were blades into Voldemort's right shoulder and, after prying his shoulder from its socket in a show of inhuman strength, had violently torn the villain's arm off. As the so-called Dark Lord was bleeding to death, Harry used the dismembered limb as a crude and gory cudgel to pummel Bellatrix about the head and neck. When the severed arm became useless as a weapon, Harry discarded it and proceeded to kick the witch who had spent weeks cutting up his body. Several of her teeth flew from her mouth after his foot smashed into her face. Her ribs shattered like dried twigs under his blows. After a few moments of this beating, Harry stopped and took hold of his organ. The bitch whimpered pathetically as he urinated on her. He imagined his warm piss splashing on her bloodied face.

Then Harry moved his location to the Dursley home. He used both hands to pry Dudley's mouth open until his jaw snapped painfully. Once his cousin's mouth was forced opened to hideous proportions, Harry crammed copious amounts of food into the fat boy's ruined orifice. Vernon didn't have it as easy; Harry took his time breaking nearly every bone in the bastard's body. First he started with his Uncle's sausage-like fingers. After all ten fingers were destroyed, he moved up the bulbous arms, snapping the bones cleanly in two. Then Harry used a meat tenderizer from the kitchen to break the man's ribs, one by one. Surprisingly, Vernon's toes proved difficult to break. The man was so fat that his toes were nothing more than just tiny nubs sticking out of his feet. Harry had a devil of a time gripping them. Once he was finished with his uncle, Harry turned his attention to his mother's sister. He started out by tearing chunks of hair out of her scalp in bloody bunches. Then he ripped her ears off the sides of her head. Her screech of pain pierced his ears when he ripped her lips off.

As when he first imagined attaining vengeance, he was again as hard as steel. He quickly and eagerly imagined Hermione along with the two featureless black and red haired witches who used to be Cho and Ginny. He dropped all pretences and imagined courtesies; he just started to shag each witch in turn. To finish himself off, Harry made the witches kneel in front of him and had them take turns stimulating him. He grunted like a feral animal as he unloaded himself on their faces.

The thing in the darkness swelled even further. It was now felt massive, as if it was large enough to completely surround Harry. The thing pulsed with rage and lust. Harry noticed something he hadn't before: that was all it was. The thing was just pure anger and sex, nothing more; a mindless beast. He had assumed that the voice that was urging him to imagine the things he had just played out in his head was part of the thing in the darkness; that the thing was the one suggesting all the acts of violence and sex. But the voice was calculating, intelligent, and insightful whereas the thing out there was just mindless lust.

'_"Intelligent"_, am I? That's very nice of you to say,' the voice stated. 'And so very arrogant, don't you think? I mean, to compliment yourself by saying you were intelligent is a little self-important.'

'You're me,' Harry said to the voice.

'Ah, he finally gets it,' the voice mocked. 'I've been talking to you for god knows how long and only now, you finally realize that I am you.

'I'm the part of you that you've always resisted,' the voice continued. 'Whenever you were beaten down or abused, I was the part that always tried to stand up. But you would constantly force me down. You told yourself such actions were not proper. You thought that being meek and kind was the right way. Well, look where it got you.'

When he first entered the darkness and the voice had told Harry that it was right to hurt the people who had wronged him, he had ignored it as being untrue. He believed that the voice was incorrect and cruel. But now that Harry had understood just how good it felt to stand up to those who had mistreated him, and how marvelous it felt to be a man, he knew the voice was right. Harry had come to realize that he deserved his revenge and everything else that he had imagined. The moment he came to this epiphany, the voice was no longer a separate entity lurking in the back of his mind; it became his mind's voice.

**x**

**x**

The time had finally come. After so many long months, Voldemort's pet was coming home to his Master.

Voldemort joined Bellatrix, Pansy, Draco, Wormtail, and Smyth in the chamber where Potter had disappeared so many months earlier. It was important that all who had witnessed the ritual – save for Macnair who had been captured – be here for the return. Not that it was vital for the ritual to call forth the servant, but because Voldemort wanted to show his minions just how powerful he was.

Once again, Voldemort donned his ceremonial robes and walked into the middle of the ritual circle. He threw his head back and called out, _"Come to me, my servant. Your Master calls to you. Hear and obey."_

Everyone felt the magic around them crackle, and they waited. Bellatrix tingled with excitement. She could hardly wait to see her Master's new pet. Wormtail looked as if he was about to soil himself out of fear. He was certain that his Master had grown tired of the rat-like wizard and was going to sacrifice him to his pet, whatever it was. Draco and Smyth watched with wide eyed awe at the Dark Lord's power. Pansy clung to Draco's arm; not out of fear, but the Amortentia potion still controlled her and she wanted to leave this place so that she could make love to her wizard.

_"Come to me, my servant!"_

**x**

**x**

Harry felt the unknown thing in the darkness descend upon him. It entered his body and he felt a blinding rage overcome him. He needed to maim, kill, and rape. The burning desire to feel the hot blood of his victims wash over his skin overcame Harry.

But Harry fought these urges; he pushed them down into the pit of his belly. Not out of fear or revulsion of such thoughts, but because he didn't like not being in control. When he finally did get his vengeance, he wanted it to be on his terms. He wanted to savor it. If he was in a blind rage, he realized that he wouldn't be able to fully appreciate it. He felt the thing in his belly, trying to push its way free. But Harry kept it in check.

He felt a tug. Something was pulling at him. Somehow he knew he was about to leave this dark place. Clearly he had gone to his place so that the thing could bind to him. And now that it had, he was going to return to where he had come from.

That meant he would be at Voldemort's castle. At first, Harry thought this was a good thing; that way he'd be able to get his well deserved revenge. But something told him that he'd be weak when he returned; probably even weaker than when he had been banished to this void. He instinctively knew that he would be helpless when he left this place until he regained his strength. He would be powerless in Voldemort's clutches. The idea of once again being victim to Voldemort and his minions did not appeal to Harry.

He needed to change where he was going. He reached out with his mind and tugged at the force that was pulling him. He felt it change and knew that he could alter his destination. Now he had to think of a somewhere; a place where he could go and be safe.

Obviously, if Harry did not arrive at Voldemort's feet, the evil snake would hunt him down. So Harry had to think of a secure place where he could hide, or where someone could protect him until he regained his strength. He immediately thought of Hogwarts; he be protected there. But now that Dumbledore was dead, Voldemort and his Death Easters would not fear attacking the school. Then Harry remembered Hagrid. His half-giant friend was strong; Harry witnessed as several Stun Charms just bounce off his skin in his fifth year. And even if Death Eater came to Hogwarts to look for Harry, Hagrid would be able to hide him in the Forbidden Forest.

Satisfied that Hagrid would protect him, Harry guided the force pulling at him.

**x**

**x**

A strange rumbling disturbed the dust that had settled in Hagrid's hut. A very loud crack broke the eerie silence of the hut as a form akin to a mummified corpse appeared out of thin air and fell to the floor.

**To be continued…**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Nine

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and nonconsensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major cannon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from cannon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

"Where is he?" Voldemort demanded. He had felt the component of the spell's magic dissipate, signifying that Potter had successfully bonded with the demon. The bonding would have automatically triggered the last step of the ritual: returning the once-wizard from the other dimension. All his magics were telling him that his pet should be right there in front of him, in the circle. But the circle remained empty; his new servant had not appeared.

"Where is he?" he repeated angrily.

Fearful of her Master's fury, Bellatrix pulled out the old tome that described the ritual and quickly read it.

"I-I don't know, sire," she admitted after a moment of checking. The witch's heart was pounding away in her chest as she scanned over the text; had she done something wrong when she was preparing Potter for the ritual? It had to be her fault and not her Master's. In her mind, the Dark Lord was infallible. So obviously, the blame rested on her and she feared the repercussions for her failure. "According to the book, your servant should come to your call and obey your every command, Master. The book states that if the retrieval spell failed, leaving the bound victim in the other… place, the ritual circle would have been broken. But the circle is intact; which means he's returned to this dimension."

"Smyth, scan the area for any wards or residual magic. See if there was any outside interference," Voldemort ordered. He knew that it was highly unlikely that Smyth would find anything; not one soul outside of this chamber knew anything about Potter being sent to another dimension. Therefore no one could have interfered. But Voldemort had to rule out any possibilities, no matter how improbable.

Smyth immediately pulled out his wand and began twirling it around frantically while muttering incantations. After a few moments, he shook his head; there was no interference whatsoever.

Voldemort was furious. He had spent months preparing for his pet, including kidnapping Potter and using the attack on Hogwarts to procure sacrifices for the ritual, followed by months of waiting; and now, his pet was missing. It was obviously not his fault; he had performed his parts of the ritual flawlessly. And he had observed Bellatrix several times during the weeks she had worked on Potter. She too had followed the ritual exactly. That only left one possibility: _Potter_.

The Dark Lord was loathed to admit it, but he would have been a fool to ignore the fact that Potter was a strong willed brat. The boy had thrown off Voldemort's Imperius through sheer force of will. The ritual was supposed to strip away the host's free will and make him an eager slave. But perhaps, the boy had just enough of his will left. Maybe when Voldemort summoned him, Potter was just able to somehow steer his destination.

Voldemort had to find him. Even if Potter was somehow able to deny him from such a long distance, the snake-like wizard doubted that Potter, bound as he now was, could disregard a direct order in his Master's presence. If, when Voldemort found Potter, the boy was still somehow able to resist, then Voldemort would just have to kill him. It would upset him to do so; after all, he had worked and planned for months for his servant. But if his pet was not obedient, its destruction would be necessary.

"Wherever Potter is, he will be very weak, most likely comatose," Voldemort said to himself more than his followers. "Until he _feeds_," he hissed the word like it was a contemptible deed, "he would want to be in a place that he is familiar with; someplace where he would feel instinctively safe."

The Dark Lord turned back to his minions and ordered: "Smyth, send teams in civilian robes to St. Mungo's and have them keep an eye out for any unusual patients. Potter may have guided himself there. Also, if someone were to stumble across him, they would take him there. It should be quite obvious that he'd need the services of a trained healer."

"Yes, Sire," Smyth bowed and hurried out of the chamber.

"Wormtail, go to Hogwarts and Hogsmeade," the Dark Lord commanded.

"But my Lord, what about the Acromantulas?" whimpered Wormtail fearfully. "The power in the amulets that Ollivander made has worn out. There's nothing to protect me from those monsters."

"Go in your rat form. That way they won't attack you," Voldemort said. "At that size, you won't even be a snack to them and they should ignore you. Check the school grounds and Hogsmeade for any sign of Potter."

Wormtail hung his head and shuffled out of the chambers. Voldemort doubted that Potter would be alive if he had ended up at Hogwarts; the Acromantulas would've eaten him for certain. But he needed to be sure. However, Voldemort did not send Wormtail to Hogwarts to search the ruined castle. He sent his minion as bait; if Wormtail, in his small rat form, is eaten by Acromantulas, then Potter, a far larger meal than a rat, would surely be dead.

"Bellatrix, you take Draco and Pansy and find the Muggles he lived with," Voldemort continued. "The wards that hid and protected the house from us must have fallen by now. Kill the Muggles and find out if Potter is there," he paused and began to speak very slowly, as if to drive his point home. "Do not cast the Dark Mark and do not use any advanced magic. Make it look like Muggles attacked Potter's family. I do not want anyone in the Ministry or the Order to know we were there. If we cast the Dark Mark or use anything above simple cutting hexes, they would certainly be alerted. By doing this correctly, no-one will think it was anything more than random killings."

"Pardon me, sire," Draco spoke up with his voice wavering only slightly. He was fearful that a suggestion might be viewed as questioning the Dark Lord's intelligence. "What about the blood traitors? The Weasleys? Potter spent a lot of time at their house. Or even his Mudblood friend? They were close in school."

"The blood traitors would take Potter in his injured condition to St. Mungo's. If he goes to the Mudblood, she would do the same. Our Death Eaters will be able to tell us then," Voldemort said. He also knew that his spy would alert him if Potter showed up at the Burrow or at Granger's. But his followers need not know of his spy yet.

Bellatrix, Pansy and Draco bowed before leaving their Master.

**x**

**x**

Narcissa was waiting outside the entrance to the ritual chamber patiently, with the young witches that the Dark Lord had charged her with. They stood next to her with their heads held high, dressed in the finest white silk robes. Subtle make-up graced their faces. Their hair was washed and styled in the latest fashion. Narcissa smiled; her charges could have passed as proper witches in a social gathering.

She had spent months beating appropriate behavior and etiquette into the witches, as her Master had ordered. During the first day, they had done nothing but cry and sob. A few well placed Cruciatus Curses took care of that problem. The first lesson had Narcissa spending hours and hours teaching the witches just how to walk properly. This simple task was somewhat troublesome as most of the witches lumbered to and fro like brainless trolls. Some of the witches proved more difficult than others. Narcissa was about to give up on one witch in particular, obviously a Muggle-born judging by how difficult it was to teach her, and give her to the guards for entertainment. But she remembered her Master had told her that he wanted all the witches for his pet, so she was forced to rescind her decision. She redoubled her efforts by putting thumb-screws on the mudblood and making her walk like a lady back and forth in her chambers for fourteen straight hours. This tactic seemed to break through the young witch's dim-witted mind and she finally began to learn. Once the simple task of walking was out of the way, Narcissa moved on to proper speech as well as dress and attire, hairstyles, and the many other things that denoted a proper witch. The elder witch would often set mock social settings to test her charges. If they were successful, then the young witches would be rewarded with praise. If they failed, they were punished with the Cruciatus Curse and a walking cane used to beat the arches of their bare feet.

After several weeks of training Bella had told Narcissa all the witches really needed to do was lay on their backs. The Master's pet did not care for etiquette or manners, just the wetness between their legs. The blonde witch was furious at first. She had wasted months of training and preparation. But then she realized that such thoughts were inappropriate; it was not her place, or anyone else's, to question the Dark Lord or his wishes. If he wanted the witches to be trained and turned into proper witches, then they were to be trained, no questions asked. If the only thing the Master's pet was going to use the witches for was sex, then Narcissa's witches would lie on their backs in a dignified and respectful manner.

As she and her charges waited for the Dark Lord to beckon them into the chamber, Narcissa looked at the young witches with pride. She didn't take pride with the witches themselves, but with how well her teachings had molded them. She had not formed a bond with these young witches. She was their better by birthright and status, therefore they would always be beneath her; to think otherwise would be ludicrous. For all Narcissa cared, the witches could be savagely raped by the Dark Lord's pet before her eyes, as long as her Master was pleased with her work.

When Smyth came running up the stairs that led to the chamber, Narcissa was surprised that he just rushed passed her without saying a word. She had expected that he would guide her and her charges into the dark room. Then, shortly after Smyth disappeared from view, the loathsome Wormtail scurried by, looking and smelling as if he had soiled himself in fear. A few moments later, Narcissa saw her son, her sister, and her son's girlfriend come out of the darkness.

"What happened?" the blonde witch demanded. "Why haven't I been summoned?"

"There's been a change in plans, Cissy," Bella said as she walked passed. "Take you're little playthings away and wait."

Narcissa huffed angrily as they left her standing in the hallway without the slightest hint of an explanation.

**x**

**x**

Susan got dressed as rapidly as she could. She couldn't bring herself to tell Hermione and Daphne the depressing news. So she had decided to wake up early and leave the flat before either witch could ask questions. Once she had finished dressing, Susan walked briskly out of her room. Unfortunately, the ploy had failed. Her flat mates were already up and eating breakfast.

"So, did he ask?" Hermione asked with a genuine smile, ready to pounce on Susan and hug her if she answered in the affirmative.

"Was it romantic?" Daphne added with a smile, although her smile wasn't as genuine as her lover's.

"No, he didn't," Susan replied. She felt a lump develop painfully in her throat at the memory of the night before. But the smiles on her friends' faces told her that they wanted to hear good news. And considering all the bad things that had happened lately, they needed to hear good news. So the red haired witch decided to lie to her friends. "But he did give me a promise; soon. He just doesn't want to make it official yet."

"When?" asked Hermione. She found it odd Susan looked so sad. Perhaps it was the fact Carl had not proposed but had set a date to do so that had upset her.

"In a month," Susan lied once again. She reasoned she would break the sad news of her failed relationship at a later date. "He said he'd propose to me in a month."

"A month?" said Daphne. "_Blokes_; I'll never understand them. Why would he make a promise to propose to you? It's like he's made an engagement for the engagement. That won't do; not for my best friend." Daphne got up from her chair and placed her arm around Susan's shoulders. The black haired witched could not deny a part of her found herself bolstered her chance with Susan had not disappeared yet. "You go out right now and you make him buy you a ring. Make it _officially_ official."

Susan's shoulders slumped forward and she removed herself from Daphne's arm. "I have to go to work," she said with a sad quaver to her voice before disappearing with a pop.

Daphne turned to Hermione with a puzzled look on her face.

"She's probably upset that he didn't actually propose to her," Hermione speculated. "She'd been looking forward to it."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Daphne said and she rejoined her lover to finish their breakfast.

Once Susan had Apparated to the Ministry, she bolted to the nearest loo and cried her eyes out.

**x**

**x**

Wormtail was shaking with fear as he scurried up the hill. He had Apparated to just outside the gates of Hogwarts. He quickly transformed into a rat, hoping to not draw the attention of the monstrous Acromantulas.

He scampered through the tall grass for a few minutes, scuttling up the hill to the castle. Every few seconds, he would stop and sniff anxiously at the air, trying to detect if the giant spiders were anywhere nearby.

He had traveled halfway up the hill before he finally saw what remained of the castle. The Astronomy Tower had collapsed into rubble. The Great Hall had been turned into a massive hollowed out shell. He could clearly see scores of enormous spider webs stung about the castle. Judging by the sheer amount as well as the size of the various webs, Wormtail reasoned that the castle was now home to a large, if not massive, number of Acromantulas.

A screech alerted him to a pack of Acromantulas heading directly toward him. Clearly, the beasts were not considering him too small to eat as the Dark Lord assured. In the blink of an eye, he transformed back into his human form and Apparated away. Thankfully, the Anti-Apparation wards had fallen when Hogwarts was gutted, allowing Wormtail to escape.

For the first time in his service to the Dark Lord, Pettigrew did not fear punishment for failure. His Master had ordered him to find Potter; if the boy had returned to Hogwarts he'd surely be dead, eaten by Acromantulas. There was no doubt in his mind. If he, in his small rat from had drawn the hungry attentions of a group of giant spiders, surely Potter would have as well.

**x**

**x**

Vernon Dursley grumbled something about the current market and lazy workers as he read over the morning paper. Petunia nodded her head in agreement as she tried to keep her eyes on the kitchen window; the next door neighbors had a heated argument the previous night and Petunia was trying to listen in hopes of hearing another row. Dudley, having been kicked out of Smeltings for fighting (much to Vernon and Petunia's protests and vehement denials), paid no heed to what his father was saying; he was too busy watching the telly and shoveling food into his face to listen.

There was an air of comfort in the Dursley house; one that had not been felt in many years. There was no pressure of unnaturalness. There hadn't been ever since that frumpy man and that woman with pink hair barged into their house looking for the boy. The Dursley house had returned to its perfect normalness. A great weight had been lifted.

The three Death Eaters appeared on the back porch with soft pops. It had taken them less than an hour to find Potter's relatives. Their Master was right, like he always was; the wards shielding the home's location had indeed dropped. Draco and Pansy busied themselves placing several Silencing Charms around the house while Bellatrix magically sealed the windows. It would not do to have the Muggles escape or their cries heard. Once everything was ready, the three entered the house.

Vernon's face turned a bright red immediately; the freaks had returned. He shot up and opened his mouth, a scathing comment ready to fly. But whatever Vernon Dursley was about to say never left his lips. With a simple flick from Bellatrix's wand, a large gash sliced the fat man's mouth open from ear to ear. His anger and elevated blood pressure turned the wound into a geyser. Blood sprayed and poured down his face, neck, and chest. He crumpled to the floor, clutching his face in agony. Petunia screamed and Dudley lost control of his bowels.

"Draco and I will entertain these Muggles," Bellatrix said to her nephew and his lover. "Go look for Potter, Pansy."

"H-h-he's n-n-not here!" Petunia half sobbed, half screamed as she huddled on the floor, clutching to her husband and son. "He hasn't been here in months!"

"Why would I believe a Muggle?" Bellatrix asked, her cold eyes staring at the horse-faced woman. "Draco, make them suffer. But remember what our Master said."

Bellatrix signaled Pansy to begin her search, but the younger witch hesitated.

"I want to stay with Draco," she whined.

"Go look for Potter!" Bellatrix snapped.

Pansy groaned pathetically and walked out of the kitchen. She so hated being away from her wizard that it pained her. She needed to be with him constantly; otherwise a void formed in her chest. The witch needed to touch him, to feel his skin. And those special moments when she made her wizard happy were the moments she was truly glad to be alive. She would have happily defied Bellatrix, making the older witch look for Potter so Pansy could be with her wizard, but the fire in Bellatrix's eyes told Pansy she should do as the older witch ordered or both she and Draco would pay. She could've withstood Bellatrix's punishment, anything to be with her wizard, but Pansy could not bear to see Draco harmed. So she begrudgingly complied with Bellatrix's orders.

Draco waved his wand and Summoned the older fat Muggle. Blood continued to flow from his face and the woman screeched as her husband flew from her clutches. Draco waved his wand again, and the fat Muggle hovered off the ground. He flicked his wand back and forth numerous times, causing the Muggle's skin to slice open in over a dozen areas. The Muggle shouted and screamed in pain with each cut.

Bellatrix turned her attention to the Muggle boy. Like Draco, she Summoned him. The woman desperately clung to her son, trying to save him from the pain he was about to endure. But her grip slipped and she fell to the floor as the boy soared through the air.

"P-please... d-don't hurt... m-m-me..." the fat boy choked out as he hovered in front of Bellatrix.

A wicked and cruel smile stretched across Bellatrix's face as she waved her wand in one broad stroke. The hex cut through Dudley's belly like a hot knife through butter. It sliced through his skin, fat, and muscle, exposing his intestines. Dudley was in so much pain that he couldn't even scream. His mother more than made up for that. Her cries reverberated in Draco and Bellatrix's ears.

Pansy passed by the small cupboard under the stairs and ran up to the first floor when she heard the woman scream. Pansy knew that her wizard was becoming aroused. He was growing hard; she could practically feel it her womanhood. But she wasn't there to take care of her lover's needs. A pang of pain and guilt flowed through her; Pansy was failing in her duties as Draco's witch. She prayed silently that Draco wouldn't hold this failure against her.

As the fat boy bled like a stuck pig, Bellatrix walked over to her nephew and stood behind him. Before Draco could react, Bellatrix draped her arms over his shoulders and pointed her wand at the fat boy.

_"Accio guts!" _she hollered. With a disgusting wet slurping sound, the Muggle boy's organs were violently ripped from his body. Blood and gore sprayed across the kitchen as Dudley's intestines flew through the air. Petunia screeched even louder as she witnessed her son being eviscerated like some sick stuffed doll. Draco squeezed his eyes shut just as the organs collided with him. The sticky mass coiled around his head, arms and neck like a skinned snake. The gore soaked his robes and flowed though the holes in his mask, coating his face.

Bellatrix laughed uproariously while Draco kicked and flayed his arms about, frantically trying to remove the intestines from his body. Great globs of blood and partially digested food clung to his mask and robes.

Still giggling, Bellatrix strolled over to the woman and placed the tip of her wand against the Muggle's long and thin neck.

She continued to scream even after her throat had been torn open; her husband had grown pale as a sheet and her son had just been disemboweled. This was all her sister's fault. If Lily had been a normal person like everyone else and wasn't an unnatural freak, she would've never had that foul son of hers, and she wouldn't have died and therefore, Petunia would never have been stuck with that boy. And these monsters would have never come to her home and murdered her family. With her last thought as oblivion claimed her, Petunia cursed the memory of her sister.

"Damn it!" Draco exclaimed loudly as he tugged the Muggle's gore off his body. "Why the hell did you do that?" he demanded.

"It was fun," Bellatrix said with amusement.

"You're a fool," snapped Draco while he untangled a few feet of organs from around his neck. The smell made him gag slightly. "Do you think the Master will be pleased?"

"He ordered them to be killed," she said with cruel sarcasm. "In case you've forgotten."

"He said _'make it look like a Muggle did it,'"_ Draco corrected. He angrily threw the organs aside and snarled, "Do you think Muggles often disembowel their victims and strew the remains around the room?"

"You'd be surprised," Bellatrix said lightly.

Draco glowered at his Aunt as he waved his wand over his body, magically removing the stink and gore from his robes and skin. He wasn't upset that he was coated with intestines and their contents; that would all disappear with a simple charm like he had just performed. Nor was he upset that Bellatrix's little joke on him had gone against their Master's order. His dark mood was because he had been aroused by the Muggle's suffering and fear, but Bellatrix's little stunt had ruined the moment for him. Having human entrails draped over him soured his arousal completely.

"Pansy, have you found him?" Bellatrix shout toward the ceiling. She knew that she had upset Draco and his anger made her tingle inside.

"There's nothing here," Pansy called back. She hadn't searched intensely, because she didn't want to waste valuable time that could be spent with her wizard. Despite her halfhearted search, she could find no trace of Potter whatsoever; no school books, parchment, quills, owl treats, or robes. There was nothing in the house that led Pansy to believe that a magical person had ever lived there.

Satisfied that she had done her job properly, Pansy trotted down the stairs to rejoin her wizard. Judging by the Muggles' screams, Draco must be as hard as steel and she needed to care for his needs. If Bellatrix had not been stranding with him, Pansy would've been prepared to get on her knees in front of Draco and satisfy him right then and there. She was surprised to see that her wizard was in a foul mood. She slid her hand discreetly down his front and found he was flaccid. Pansy smiled to herself with the realization her wizard was not aroused by the screams like he normally was. The obvious reason was because she was not there with him, or so she concluded. The lack of her presence denied him pleasure; that proved they were deeply in love. She resolved to show her appreciation to him by fetching a Muggle girl and bringing her into their chamber that very night.

**x**

**x**

"Are you all right?" Remus asked for what seemed like the hundredth time as Tonks slid out of bed. Not only had Tonks seemed distant and distracted, which told Remus something was bothering her, but there was also his lover's hair. For days she had not changed her hair to its normal bright pink, green, or blue and had instead reverted to its normal mousy brown. He knew for a fact when Tonks was depressed, she tended to revert to her natural hair color and not use her Metamorphmagus abilities to change it to garish, shockingly bright colors.

"It's just work," Tonks lied and unconsciously touched her left forearm and the Dark Mark hidden by her Metamorphmagus ability. This seemingly innocent gesture was missed by Remus. "With all the Death Eater attacks and now the Muggles nabbing magical folk, there's just been a lot of pressure at work."

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked and kissed her bare shoulder.

"That's sweet, but there's nothing to talk about," she said and let her hand run through his straggly hair. Tonks desperately wanted to tell him the truth, that she was forced to become a Death Eater and had to spy on the Order and Ministry. But she knew if she did, Remus would be brave and noble, and her would try to save Tonks and her parents, but would only end up getting himself killed.

"I better get going," Tonks said finally and padded into the bathroom to take a shower.

While in the privacy of the shower, Tonks scrunched her eyes closed and dropped the appearance of fake skin on her forearm. It seemed to her that this was the only way she used her Metamorphmagus abilities as of late; to hide the ugly black tattoo of a snake and skull that marred her skin.

She closed her eyes again and willed herself to cover the hateful mark as her tears mingled with the water from the shower.

**x**

**x**

When Hermione and Daphne entered the Ministry, they heard other workers buzzing and talking amongst each other. The talk revolved around the news that suspected Death Eaters were spotted hanging about St. Mungo's.

"Well, why don't they send some M. L. E. officers down there and snatch them up?" one witch asked.

"Because they're only suspected Death Eaters," another replied.

"That's never stopped the M. L. E. from snatching up someone before," a wizard added.

"I heard they did send some M. L. E. down there," another interjected. "But when they approached the suspects, they left, Apparated away. Weird thing is though, after that happened, another group of suspected Death Eaters took their place a while later."

"Wait a tic," yet another wizard join the conversation. "How do they know they're Death Eaters? Are they wearing their masks in public?"

"I said they were_ 'suspected Death Eaters' _didn't I? If they wore their masks I would've not said that they were _'suspected.' _ Haven't you been listening?"

Hermione and Daphne shared a concerned look before parting their separate ways. Why were Death Eaters lurking about St. Mungo's? Were they casing it for an attack? Hermione hoped the Ministry would increase security at the hospital, just as a precaution. She didn't want a repeat of what happened at Hogwarts at the magical hospital.

As she made her way to her office, Hermione continued to hear different groups discussing the rumors of Death Eaters at St. Mungo's. She entered her office and decided to take her mind off of the hospital and focus on her work.

It still surprised her even though the Ministry had virtually severed every tie with the Muggles, those same Muggles were still sending in reports of suspected magical activity. It was as if some people in the Muggle government were hoping the Ministry of Magic would come and help them.

Hermione scanned through the stack of reports on her desk. It was futile task because nothing would be done about the reports; every time she tried to send a team of Obliviators out, her request was denied. But she had been told it was still her job to sort through the papers and then report them; despite the little good it did.

The first two reports she had read were nothing more than false alarms and she dismissed them immediately. But the third was one held her attention. It was listed as a possible magical attack where a family was brutally murdered. The savageness of the attack wasn't what was suspect; some serial murders had mutilated their victims in a similar manner. What was suspect in this case was the fact that not a single neighbor heard the incident. This led whoever had reported this incident to the Ministry of Magic to believe that a magical person or persons might have used a Silencing Charm.

Hermione was about to file it under "Please Investigate" folder — like she did with most reports — when the name of the victims caught her eye: "Vernon, Petunia, and Dudley Dursley."

Her heart raced in her chest as she realized Harry's relatives had been murdered. She memorized the address and quickly grabbed a map of the area. She found and circled a suitable place to Apparate, one where no one would see her arrive. She took off her robes, knowing such outlandish attire would attract too much attention in a Muggle neighborhood, and left her office.

After leaving the Ministry and Apparating to the alley she had selected from the map, Hermione briskly walked to the Dursley home. It was easy to find the house; a dozen police cars and news vehicles surrounded the ordinary looking house, clogging up the street. As she approached, she overheard several different reporters interviewing neighbors.

"No, I didn't hear a thing."

"I bet you it was their nephew. Strange lad, he was."

"I just talked to Petunia yesterday..."

There was no Dark Mark hanging over the house, but that did not mean this wasn't Voldemort's work. The brutal murder of Harry's relatives was too coincidental for Hermione. She needed to be sure.

Slowly, Hermione edged her way past the crowd of reports and onlookers until she reached the yellow tape denoting a crime scene. A number of people Hermione assumed were inspectors were walking around the exterior of the house, clearly looking for clues. But she noticed several men who seemed out of place from the rest of the police officers. They wore suits as did the inspectors, but these suits were too well pressed, the ties too straight, and the shoes too polished. The men also stood with near perfect posture. These men did not have the crumpled look of the inspectors. Then there were their haircuts. Each one had identical hair styles; cut very close on the top and nearly shaved bald on the sides and backs. Hermione deduced that these men were not police but rather military personnel judging by their appearance and the way they stood.

Hermione remembered seeing the reports of Muggles abducting witches and wizards. From the reports, Hermione had assumed the Muggles had to be part of the military, perhaps Special Forces; that the Muggle Ministry had created a task force to deal with Magical folk. She realized these well dressed men must have been from this task force. With a deliberate and slow place, Hermione inched her way along the yellow tape to the military men. She strained her ears to overhear their conversation.

"... that skull isn't in the air like the others."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean those freaks didn't do this."

"It could be a serial killer or cult thing," another speculated.

"If it is, then it's police work and we aren't needed here."

Hermione scowled. She had to know if this was an attack by Death Eaters or not. The only way she could do that was by getting in the house and casting a diagnostic charm. Even if she could still sneak past the military and the police, there had to be a number of Muggles still investigating inside the house. She needed something draw the people away from the house.

Then she saw her distraction.

**x**

**x**

Ron was more than happy to get back to active duty. After the recent fiasco, the M. L. E. had put him on a paid leave while they worked out the red tape. His supervisor, Sergeant Wright, told Ron to think of his time off as a vacation. Wright went on to say Ron needed it because of all the stress he had been put under. Ron took Wright up on the suggestion. He spent the first few days building a small house for himself, with help from his father. It was only a few dozen feet away from the Burrow, and even though there was just one bedroom and a combination living room and kitchen, it was his. Ron also spent this time getting to know his new wife, Mafalda.

Mafalda was a little dim and somewhat passive. She didn't know much about current happenings, and she tended to agree with Ron in whatever conversation he brought up. This suited Ron just fine; Hermione used to dominate Ron with her intelligence and constantly tried to push him. Mafalda was a proper wife in Ron's mind; he was the wizard and she was the witch, and he liked it that way.

There was one thing about his marriage that bothered Ron: his love life. When he would shag Mafalda, which he could still do since she wasn't showing yet, all she would do was lie on her back completely still and moan softly. She was like a lump. He wanted her to be more active; to push against him, to cry out. He found himself wanting it to be more like his experience with Hermione; full of thrill and excitement. But he had to remind himself of the aftereffects of his time with that bitch; how he had been chucked in a cell and his life turned upside down. So, he told himself time and time again, he should be content with his dull love life; at least his wife wouldn't accuse him of raping her.

His mind was constantly plagued by the events stemming from that night, both before and after. How Hermione had teased him incessantly, and then made him believe that she was into a rape fantasy, only to have the bitch accuse him of the real thing. How he was treated like a criminal and almost tossed into Azkaban like a fucking Death Eater because of her little sick game.

That is why he wanted to corner Hermione the first chance he got. He wanted to show the bitch despite her best efforts, he was not in Azkaban; he was still a M. L. E. officer. Her plan to ruin his life had failed and he wanted to shove her nose in that fact. He didn't want her to hear rumors of him being back, giving her the time to prepare herself. No, he wanted Hermione to be the first to know that her plan failed. He needed to see the look on her face.

That's why on this, his first day back on active duty, Ron walked straight to her office. He wanted to just stand in her doorway and look at her smugly. But when he arrived, she wasn't at her desk. He cursed her; she had taken his moment away, like she had always done. Ron was about to storm out of the room when a voice spoke up.

"Are you looking for your ex?" Martha asked. "I just saw her leaving the building."

Ron didn't say a word; he just stared at the older witch. Martha walked passed Ron, to stand next to Hermione's desk.

"She ran off to Merlin knows where after she read this," she said, handing Ron a report. "Does this mean anything to you?"

At first Ron was going to dismiss the report. It was nothing more than a silly report on the deaths of some Muggles. But his eyes bulged as he saw the names on the report; they were Harry's Muggle relatives. Hermione must've gone to the crime scene for some reason.

"She also apparently checked this map for an appropriate Apparation point," Martha added, pointing to a secluded alley near the Dursley home. "Do me a favor. When you find her, tell her she's in a lot of trouble. She just walked off during her shift, without permission."

"Yeah, I'll tell her that," Ron said and walked to the lobby.

When he got to the Muggle neighborhood, he saw a number of Muggles milling about talking amongst themselves. He spent a full minute scanning the crowd looking for Hermione from across the street, but with no luck. The Muggles were packed too closely together to see anything properly. He decided that his best chance to spot Hermione would be by walking through the crowd. So, with his M. L. E. robes billowing in the wind, Ron made his way into the pack of Muggles. He pushed himself through a group of them; one was holding an odd device with a spongy ball on the tip of it and he was holding it so the ball was in another's face. A third Muggle had something that looked like a camera, but with no flash, on his shoulder. It was truly barmy. Ron knew that his father would've loved to have been there.

Dismissing the Muggles and their strange behavior, Ron pressed on. Just as he moved onto another group of Muggles, he heard Hermione's familiar voice scream, "LOOK OUT! IT'S ONE OF THE TERRORISTS!"

A panic instantaneously enveloped the Muggles. In a blink of an eye, they all started to run and bolt in every direction. One Muggle ran into Ron's shoulder which made the wizard spin around. Which caused Ron to notice a Muggle that had been walking up behind him. This Muggle had an intense look in his eye and was holding a weird device in his hand. Ron had no idea what this device was, but the Muggle was pointing threateningly at Ron so the wizard took no chances. He whipped out his wand and shouted, _"Stupefy!"_

**x**

**x**

When Hermione saw Ron at the edge of the crowd, at first she was filled with rage and hatred. Her rapist was not only free, but judging by his M. L. E. robes, still an officer. Then she realized that she could use him as a distraction to get into the house.

Ron had always been painfully ignorant of Muggles; he was walking around a Muggle neighborhood in a wizard's robes, sticking out like a sore thumb. What more, his wand was jutting out of his pocket for everyone to see. Hermione smiled; she could use Ron's appearance to her advantage.

Boldly, Hermione ducked under the yellow tape and approached one of the men she assumed was part of the military. The man saw her coming, and was obviously about to ask her to leave the crime scene when Hermione said.

"Excuse me, but I think one of those terrorists is standing over there," the witch pointed in Ron's direction. Ron was easy to spot in the crowd, not only was he a head taller than most of the Muggles, his wizard's robes made him stand out even more. "He's wearing something that looks like a bathrobe. And it looks like he has one of those batons the terrorist use in his pocket."

The military man eyed Ron suspiciously. After a brief moment, he said to Hermione without taking his eyes off of the red haired wizard, "Thank you, ma'am, we'll take care of this."

He then walked past Hermione, and spoke into the cuff of his shirt; "We have a suspect..."

Hermione saw several men dressed similarly to the man she had just spoken to begin to surround Ron. Each one of the men pulled what looked like a taser out of their jackets. It was clear that they would get the drop on Ron and stun him; the dolt had not seen the men encroaching on him. Although Hermione would like to see her rapist suffer, she needed a bigger distraction. If the military men just grabbed Ron without incident, the investigators still in the house would be unaffected. But if Ron defended himself and put up a fight, the people in the house would come out; either to assist in Ron's capture or simply to see the commotion. So, to make an even greater distraction, Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs; "LOOK OUT! IT'S ONE OF THE TERRORISTS!"

It was just as she had planned. Blind panic claimed the onlookers and they ran in every direction. Ron pulled out his wand and cast a Stupefying Charm on one of the men approaching him. As the man fell unconscious, the Muggle civilians screamed even louder and the military men fired off their tasers. One grazed Ron's shoulder while the others hit several Muggles who were near him.

Within seconds of her shout, Hermione saw a dozen men and women pour out of the house. It was clear that her plan had worked. She pulled out her wand and cast a Disillusionment Charm on herself before sneaking into the now empty house.

Once she was inside, Hermione was struck by the sight and smell of the gory remains of the Dursley family. The odor made her gag and made her nauseous. Quelling her revulsion, Hermione forced her thoughts and senses away from the corpses as best she could; she had a task to do and little time to do it. She rapidly cast several detection charms. She noticed a Silencing Charm along with a number of Slicing Hexes and a pair Summoning Charms had been used very recently. The young witch's suspicion was now proven; the brutal murders had been a magical attack.

The smell of blood and death began to overpower Hermione once again and she fled the interior of the house. Once in the front garden, Hermione tried to catch her breath, taking deep gulps of fresh air. While her nausea passed, Hermione observed the aftermath of Ron's distraction. Several men and women were on the ground. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw them breathing; thankfully Ron hadn't used any lethal curses. Hermione had doubted he would have, but then she would've believed a few short weeks ago he wouldn't have violently forced himself on her and he had proved her wrong. Clearly, the people who were unconscious were either hit by Ron's stunners or the military men's tasers.

Many members of the task force were scurrying around, looking for something. Hermione assumed Ron had successfully Apparated away. She had hoped Ron would've gotten captured. Because the bastard had eluded justice in the wizarding world, Hermione would've gladly accepted any punishment the Muggle world would've offered him instead.

With a soft pop, Hermione Apparated back to the hall just outside her and her friends' flat. Before her hand touched the doorknob, Hermione became lost in thought.

For some reason, Death Eaters attacked the Durselys. Hermione felt it was safe to assume the Death Eaters had been the ones to attack Harry's relatives. It was too improbable to think it was just a random crime by some other magic user. Voldemort had to have a reason to attack the Dursleys, especially so long after Harry's disappearance. If he had wanted to do it to hurt Harry by murdering his relatives, he would've done it around the time Voldemort nabbed him. Killing them at this time didn't make any sense to Hermione.

As she pondered over the situation, Hermione's mind drifted to Ron's panicked look when he saw the Muggle with the taser. It made her happy to cause a bit of grief to the bastard who had hurt her so deeply. A part of her wanted to see Ron in even more pain.

Her mind then roamed to a time when such thoughts never entered her mind; when she and Ron were friends; a more innocent time where pain, sorrow, and betrayal were distant concepts to her. She found herself wishing for that time to return, knowing that it never could.

She didn't know how she got there without spinching herself, but she found herself walking through Diagon Alley. Apparently, she had been reminiscing about the past so much that she had absentmindedly Apparated there before she entered her flat. She recalled the few times she, Ron, and Harry had strolled down these streets. In particular, she remembered fondly the time before their third year, when Harry spent a few weeks in a room above the Leak Cauldron. He had so enjoyed showing Hermione the quaint little shops; Ron had visited these shops numerous times with his family so he didn't share Hermione and Harry's level of excitement. When Hermione saw the now-boarded up shop of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, her mind flooded with memories of the times that she and her two best friends shared ice cream together.

A compulsion to see Hogwarts once more overcame Hermione. It was extremely dangerous and foolish to do so owing to the Acromantulas, but the witch needed to see the castle. She had to see the place that generated such fond memories one last time.

Hermione closed her eyes and focused. After she felt as if she was being squeezed through a tube, Hermione opened her eyes and found herself at the far end of Hogsmeade. She had chosen this particular location hoping that the Acromantulas wouldn't be there. If they had been, Hermione was prepared to Apparate directly to her flat instantly.

The village, which used to hold wondrous treasures and trinkets of the magical world to a Muggle-born witch like herself, was nothing more than rubble. When she had last been there, during the attack of Hogwarts, Hermione hadn't noticed the total devastation of Hogsmeade. The extent of the destruction made it seemed that the Death Eaters who had attacked the village left no stone on top of another.

As she cautiously walked through the ruined village, Hermione saw no signs of Acromantulas. She reasoned that the giant spiders must have been content to stay in the Forbidden Forest and the castle, as the reports she had read stated.

Because she was moving carefully, it took Hermione a while to reach what was left of the gates of Hogwarts. Even from this distance, she could see the ancient castle was in ruin. Hermione pushed past the gates and entered the grounds. As she made her way closer to the old school, she would hear strange animalistic noises emanating from the ruined building. The sunlight danced across the giant spider webs that hung about the gaping holes in the castle walls, making them sparkle and shimmer, like diamonds.

Hermione felt pangs of sadness and anger at the sight of the destroyed castle. How many people had perished that day? How many families were devastated just for one man's quest for power? Hundreds of people's lives were ruined simply because Voldemort was a power-mad lunatic.

Hermione saw Hagrid's hut out of the corner of her eye. She had lost count how many times she and her friends had gone there for advice, comfort, or just to have some of the half-giant's inedible cakes.

Something dawned upon her; the hut was untouched. Unlike the castle, which had whole sections destroyed and leveled, the hut was perfectly intact and unmarred. For some reason, the Acromantulas had not ravished the hut like they had the castle.

For a moment, Hermione wondered if a Death Eater had dropped one of their special medallions near the hut. It was the only thing the made sense to her; those medallions had a basilisk scale imbued in them and were the only things that kept the Acromantulas away. But then, Hermione recalled during the day of the attack, how an Acromantula had charged at her but reeled away once they had come close to that patch of dirt. Then Hermione recalled Hagrid had taken the body of his former pet and the sire of all the Acromantulas, Aragog, and buried his body in that spot. Harry had told her Hagrid had been upset that the other Acromantulas had wanted to eat Aragog's body. Perhaps that body, now underground, had frightened away the Acromantulas, she mused. Whether it was the smell of the rotting corpse of their sire drove them away, or some sort of taboo or superstition to the giant spiders that frightened them, Hermione didn't know. Either way, it was the only explanation for the pristine state of the old hut.

As Hermione approached the hut, a part of her was overjoyed. The Acromantulas hadn't touched it at all; it was just as she had remembered. The door creaked noisily as she opened it, causing stagnate air to waft out. A thick layer of dust coated everything in sight.

She gasped aloud when she saw the body on the floor. It looked like some sort of mummy; wrinkly skin loosely clinging onto bone. At first, Hermione assumed the poor devil must've been attacked but somehow had dragged himself in here only to die from his wounds. The dry, stale air of the hut apparently mummified his remains. She idly wondered if she had known the dead man.

Hermione gasped even louder when she saw the body draw in a breath. It was a slow, almost imperceptible rising of the chest. He was alive!

As Hermione rushed to the body, she realized whoever this wizard was, he could not have been here during the fall of Hogwarts; he certainly would've been dead by now. That meant that he must've gotten here very recently.

Hermione knelt next to the unconscious man. Even before rolling him over, she was shocked at the amounts of scars that crisscrossed his body. By the looks of it, he had been tortured. She rolled him over and began inspecting him. He was nothing more than a sickly wisp of a man. For a brief moment, Hermione thought he was an elderly wizard, judging by streaks of white in his black hair and bedraggled frame. But then she realized that he was a young man; one who had been tortured mercilessly. He looked starved; his muscles had clearly atrophied into nothing. When she had first seen the scars, she thought they were just caused by random cuts and gashes, but upon closer inspection, she noticed several runes carved into his flesh; some of the runes that she saw meant power, strength, obedience, and savagery. The person or persons who cut this man up did so obviously for a reason; for a ritual of some kind more likely than not. But one scar caught her attention. It was a small scar on his forehead, framed by now white hair, shaped like a lightning bolt.

"HARRY!"

Hermione could not believe it; he was alive! He really was alive! And here in her arms. After months of fruitless attempts to find him, she blindly stumbled across him. As tears of happiness and sorrow streamed down her face in great globs, she cradled his dilapidated frame to her bosom.

She ran her hands over the grotesque rough scars that coated his skin, Hermione needed to feel him, to make sure he was real and that her mind wasn't playing tricks on her. He was cool to the touch but not cold, which Hermione took as a good sign. After gently prying open one of Harry's eyelids, she found his eyes had rolled up into his head.

Something told her that a simple Rennervate Charm wouldn't work. She had to get him to a Healer, Hermione was about to turn a nearby chair into a Portkey so she could bring him to St. Mungo's.

But then, a moment before she muttered the incantation, she remembered the rumors of Death Eaters seen at the magical hospital. Were they there to locate something? And then the attack on the Dursleys came to Hermione's thoughts. The murders couldn't have been random. Hermione made a logical connection between the events: _they were looking for Harry_. That's why Death Eaters were stationed at St. Mungo's and the reason for the attack on Harry's relatives. Somehow, Harry had escaped Voldemort's clutches and the evil wizard was now searching for him.

Hermione realized if she took Harry to St. Mungo's, she would be delivering him to Voldemort thanks to the fiend's minions watching the hospital. So St. Mungo's was no longer an option. Nor could she take him to her flat, because of Hermione's connection with Harry, they'd surely they would look there as well.

A loud screeching sound in the distance drew Hermione's attention. After gently laying Harry down, she stood and looked out the window. She saw an Acromantula scurrying across the field a few dozen feet away from the hut. A small smile graced her lips, the answer came to her. She could keep Harry here and be safe. Voldemort and his minions would not dare come to Hogwarts. Even if Voldemort thought Harry had somehow made it here, he would've assumed that the Acromantulas would've eaten him.

But Hermione still needed to heal Harry. Even though she only knew a few minor healing charms and potions, they would have to suffice.

She knelt down next to Harry and whispered in his ear, "I'll be right back, Harry. I need to fetch some potions."

She doubted Harry could understand her in his state; her comforting words were meant more for herself than him. Hermione put a hand on his thin shoulder and squeezed gently as another sign of support. She was slightly embarrassed to notice that her simple gesture lasted longer than she had planned. For some reason, she felt compelled to leave her hand on him. A part of her wanted to touch him; not to make sure he was all right, but to selfishly feel him. She blushed when she realized her eyes were lingering on his naked form, his groin in particular. Internally berating herself for having such thoughts of ogling him, much less while he was hurt, Hermione stood up.

Hermione concentrated and Apparated directly into her flat, civility be damned. Her sudden arrival startled both Daphne and Susan.

"Where the hell have you been all day?" Daphne demanded after regaining her composure.

Hermione ignored her lover and walked to their shared room. The brunette snatched up her potion supplies from the cupboard, and then headed to her book collection.

"Where are you going?" Daphne asked.

"Hogwarts," Hermione answered abruptly. She had to get back to Harry as quickly as she could, and she couldn't bother explaining.

"Are you mad?" Susan demanded. "The Acromantulas will eat you."

"No they won't," Hermione said as she selected several books on healing charms and potions. "They won't go near Hagrid's hut."

Hermione was about to Apparate back to the hut, to begin to work on Harry when she realized that she could use Susan and Daphne's help.

"Come with me," the brunette requested.

"Now I know you're mad," Susan commented. The red head turned to Daphne and said sarcastically, "Your girlfriend wants us to go play with the Acromantulas. Isn't that sweet?"

Dismissing Susan's remark, Daphne asked her lover, "Why do we need to go there?"

"I found him," Hermione said. Her voice was a mixture of joy and sorrow. "He's alive. He's at Hagrid's hut."

Both Susan and Daphne appeared confused, as if they had no idea of what Hermione was talking about. Then, it dawned on them.

"Harry?" Susan asked in disbelief. Hermione nodded.

"Where's he been?" Daphne asked.

"I don't know," Hermione replied. "He's in some sort of coma. But wherever he was, he's been severely tortured. So be prepared."

"Why don't we take him to St. Mungo's?" Daphne asked.

"We can't; I'm positive Death Eaters are staking out St. Mungo's to keep an eye out for Harry," she replied. "Earlier today, Harry's relatives were murdered by Voldemort, or, more likely, by his henchmen. All this tells me Harry escaped somehow, and now they are looking for him."

"Well, won't they search Hogwarts?" Susan asked.

"The Acromantulas will keep them away," Hermione stated. "Besides, even if they thought Harry had made it to Hogwarts, they'd just assume he would be eaten."

"Won't that happen to us?" Daphne asked.

"I told you; the Acromantulas won't go near Hagrid's hut. Back in our sixth year, Hagrid buried Arogog, his pet Acromantula, outside his hut. He didn't want the other Acromantulas to eat his corpse," Hermione informed her friends. "And now, since the Acromantulas couldn't eat Arogog's body, it's somehow acting as a repellant. Remember what I said happened during the attack on Hogwarts? An Acromantula charged at me, but when it got to a certain patch of earth, it turned and ran away. I realized that was the area where Hagrid buried Arogog."

Susan and Daphne shared a nervous look. They both believed Hermione when she said that the Acromantulas wouldn't go near the hut. But the thought of hundreds of giant spiders a few feet away set them on edge.

"I'm going," Hermione said firmly. "I could really use your help. But I'll understand if you don't want to go."

"I'll go with you," Daphne said, screwing up her courage.

"Count me in too," Susan added with a noticeable frightened quaver in her voice.

A moment later, all three witches appeared in Hagrid's hut. Harry had not moved from the spot where Hermione had left him.

"Set him on the bed, please," Hermione requested as she pulled out her potion supplies. Susan waved her wand, levitating Harry's naked body onto Hagrid's immense bed.

Hermione set a cauldron on the ground and laid out the books she had retrieved. She quickly scanned through the books, looking for some sort of nutrient potion. Harry obviously needed nourishment; she knew that a potion would be the best option to do just that.

As Hermione scanned through her books, Daphne kept her eye on the window overlooking the field outside. She was nervous about the Acromantulas despite Hermione's reassurance.

"Um, Hermione," Susan called out softly. "Harry's getting an erection."

_"SUSAN!"_ Daphne screeched, spinning around. "Is that really appropriate?"

"Don't worry, Daphne," Hermione said, trying to calm her lover while she began placing ingredients into her cauldron. A part of her, the part that liked to kiss Daphne and make her moan, wanted her to turn around and look at Harry, to see his erect manhood for herself. But she pushed the urge away; she needed to brew this potion. "A man often gets erections when he's asleep, or so I've read. Besides, it's a good sign. Since he can get an erection, it tells us that Harry's healthy on some level."

"Hermione, there's something wrong with his penis," Daphne said with worry.

Hermione turned around and looked at Harry. True enough, something was wrong; a number of large bumps and bulges covered the shaft of his organ. They stood out like large bee-stings on his growing manhood.

"What are they?" the brunette witch asked. Despite her inexperience, Hermione knew that such a thing was not natural.

Daphne leaned over Harry's body and waved her wand over his groin. Slowly, a soft glow emanated from the bumps in his shaft.

"They have some sort of magical properties to them," Daphne announced. "I've got no idea what kind of properties though."

"Can we remove them?" Hermione asked.

"I doubt it," the black haired witch admitted. "It looks like they've fused with the tissue. I could do some research and see if I can do anything."

As all three witches watched, Harry's organ grew and grew. In a matter of moments, it stood fully erect for all to see. Hermione was so transfixed that she did not realize that her mouth had gone dry. Daphne, who was just as fascinated as her lover, unconsciously licked her lips. The awkward tension that filled the hut made Susan want to say an off-colored comment such as _"I could use that as a coat rack" _to break the silence and lighten the mood, but she too was so spellbound that the words didn't leave her throat.

"Those bumps are the least of our problems right now," Hermione said, finally forcing her attention away from Harry's large organ and returning to her cauldron. "We can see if we can remove them later. For now, let's focus on getting Harry healthy."

"This may seem a little crude, but it kind of looks like a dildo," Susan announced.

Instead of chiding Susan for her comment, Hermione turned and focused on Harry's organ once more. That same part of her that liked the way Daphne would purr when kissed behind the ear relished the sight of Harry's rigid member. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that both Daphne and Susan were slightly mesmerized on Harry's manhood as well, as if they were fascinated by it.

"One of my ex's bought me a dildo he found in a Muggle shop, he thought it was funny gift," Susan continued. "It was a black rubber thing with a whole lot of bumps on it, sort of what Harry has."

"Did you ever use it?" asked Hermione. She was surprised to find herself curious about such a crude topic, particularly in this situation.

"Only once," Susan admitted. "After he broke up with me, I used it to spite him."

Hermione found herself curious yet again. This time, she wanted to know if it felt good; all those bumps rubbing inside of her. But such a question was far too crude, especially at a time like this. So she put her mind to the task of brewing the potion.

Susan pulled herself out of her transfixed state. It wasn't right to stare at Harry, not while he was ill. The red haired witched walked over to Hagrid's bed and pulled one of the sheets off to use as a cover for Harry.

Daphne shook her head when Susan threw the blanket over Harry. She was embarrassed by the fact she couldn't look away from him.

Over the next few minutes, Harry's state softened and became flaccid.

It took nearly an hour for Hermione to successfully brew the nutrient potion. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she carefully cradled Harry's head in her lap and poured the liquid down his throat. She waited for a reaction from him, but nothing happened. Hermione realized a simple nutrient potion was not enough; she needed to find more powerful potions, ones that her books did not list.

**x**

**x**

After dashing to Flourish & Blotts the next day, Hermione returned to the hut with a stack of books on advanced healing. She and her two friends began making several different potions designed to rebuild Harry's muscles, feed him vital nutrients and general curing elixirs. None seemed to work.

"Damn it," Hermione cursed as she looked down at Harry. There had been no change in his condition; even in the slightest. All those tissue regenerative potions should have at least given him back some of his muscle. But he still looked like a skeleton.

"Well, we'll just have to keep trying," offered Susan.

"Maybe the potions need to be given to him a couple of times over the next few days to take affect," speculated Daphne. "I mean, he's in a really bad state. It could be the potions are working on him slowly."

"You're probably right," Hermione conceded. "Still, I think we should try some other remedies as well. We'll have to keep a constant eye on him to monitor any changes."

"That makes sense. But we'll have to split up into shifts," Susan said. "I can have my shift at the Ministry switched to evenings. That way, I can keep an eye on Harry during the mornings..."

"I can watch him over night," Daphne offered. "I'm more of a night person anyway."

"I'll take the evening watch, then," Hermione said with a smile. Her friends' compassion and loyalty touched her heart.

**x**

**x**

When she heard a group of people walking up behind her, Tonks didn't bother turning around. She knew who they were and why they were at her flat so late at night.

"It's time to prove yourself," Bellatrix said in a sickly sweet voice as she and two fellow Death Eaters walked to the witch.

Tonks still didn't bother to look at the Death Eater as the distance between them closed. Bellatrix dropped a piece of parchment and a self-inking quill in front of the Auror.

"What's that for?" Tonks asked, dreading the answer.

"It's a trap," Bellatrix replied. "Since you took Macnair from us, it's only fitting that we take one of you to even things out."

"Please, don't make me do this," pleaded Tonks.

"Oh, now don't get that way," Bellatrix said and she ran her fingers through Tonks' hair and stroked her face softly in a mocking gesture of compassion. "Just think of what will happen to your blood-traitor of a mother and her filthy mudblood."

Knowing it was pointless to plead with the psychotic Death Eater, Tonks picked up the quill.

"Good girl, now write a note to 'Mad-Eye' Moody," Bellatrix ordered in her sickly sweet voice. She draped her arms over Tonks' shoulders and rested her head on top of the younger witch's. "Tell him that you want to meet at the alley across from Borgin and Burkes at midnight. And make sure he comes alone."

Tonks stared at the blank parchment, trying to figure out a way to warn Moody. She knew that Bellatrix was watching intently, so warning him or drawing little symbols would be out of the question. Thinking quickly she decided to use a heavier hand on the quill when it came to certain letters. She wrote;

_"_**D**_ear M_**o**_ody,_

_At mid_**n**_ight tonigh_**t**_, meet me at the alley a_**c**_r_**o**_ss fro_**m**_ Borgin and Burk_**e**_s alone. I came on a _**t**_ip earlie_**r**_ tod_**a**_y about a potential s_**p**_y in the Minist_**r**_y and I can't tr_**u**_st anyo_**n**_e but you. It is imper_**a**_tive that _**w**_e t_**a**_lk._

**Y**_our friend,_

_Tonks."_

Once she was finished, Tonks laid the quill down. The hidden message was subtle, but Mad-Eye was a paranoid old coot and Tonks was certain that he'd spot it.

Unfortunately, the message wasn't subtle enough to slip by Bellatrix.

"Look, isn't it sweet, she's tried to warn her friend," Bellatrix said patronizingly as she scooped up the parchment. She handed it to one of the other Death Eaters and explained "It says_' don't come, trap, run away.'"_

While she stroked Tonks' cheek in another false show of compassion, Bellatrix said "I think we should teach you a lesson, my dear." The witch spoke to one of her companions and ordered; "Williams, go back to the castle and dig out one of the mudblood's eyes with a spoon."

"What?" Tonks asked in shock and fear.

Before she could protest, Williams disappeared with a pop.

"I'd wait for Williams to come back with your father's eye, but we're on a tight time frame," Bellatrix said, barely holding back her laughter over Tonks' pain. "Now, write it again. And this time, don't try to warn him or I'll have Hodgkin here use the same spoon Williams used to put out one of your mother's eyes."

"She's your sister," Tonks begged.

"She betrayed our kind by marrying that mudblood and pushing a filthy half-blood like you out of her befouled womb! That whore stopped being my sister a long time ago," Bellatrix snarled. "Now write the fucking post!"

With tears streaming, Tonks rewrote the note. This time she didn't attempt to hide a warning. She hoped that Moody would realize that it was a trap and save himself —even though the possibility of that happening was slim at best. When she finished, Bellatrix scrutinized what the Auror had written.

"I was so hoping that you'd try and defy me again," complained Bellatrix. "I wanted to have your mother scream."

Bellatrix clicked her fingers and Hodgkin walked to her. He took the post and Apparated away.

"While he's gone to fetch an owl and send the post to Moody, we should have a little chat," Bellatrix said. She sat across from Tonks and demanded, "Tell me what types of precautions Moody will take for this meeting. And if I feel that you're holding back, I'll personally return to the castle and cut the blood-traitors tits off."

Tonks let out a shuttering sigh before answering. "He'll arrive early to case the area. If he finds any traps or Anti-Apparation wards, he'll take off."

"So that means you'll have to cast the Anti-Apparation ward after he shows up. We can't have him running off. He won't expect you to do something like that," ordered Bellatrix. "What else? What kinds of protection will he have?"

"He'll have a backup wand somewhere on his body. And he has an emergency Portkey," Tonks stated with a heavy heart recalling the old sock Moody kept in his pocket. To betray a friend and mentor like Moody tore at her soul. But she was forced to weigh the value of Moody's life against the lives of her mother, father, and Remus.

"That's very good," Bellatrix said. "Now get ready, we can't be late for our meeting with Mad-Eye."

**x**

**x**

They couldn't meet in the Minister's office. That would draw too much attention; he knew this. But Johan Blaor didn't think they needed to meet in a dirty alley like a bunch of lowly thieves.

Some kind of blue-green sludge dripped down the wall behind him. A nasty odor lingered throughout the alley, smelling like fecal matter. A filthy rat scuttled across the ground a few feet from Blaor, causing the wizard to cringe. It was a dirty and disgusting place; it was not a suitable setting for him. Nor was it a proper location to discuss the magical word's freedom. But then again, since he and the Minister did not want anyone to find out what they were doing, this was the perfect place; no one would ever think to look for them here. Blaor pushed his disgust away and swallowed his pride along with a mouthful of bile. This was for the good of witches and wizards everywhere, he told himself. He just wished Godfrey would show up, so he could give the Minister his findings on his potions and get out of the foul alley as soon as possible.

Blaor fidgeted for several minutes, trying his best not to think of the sludge that coated his boots and was seeping into the hem of his robes, when someone showed up. At first, Blaor didn't recognize the Minister. The normally noble and proud wizard was hunched over and wearing dirty and tattered set of robes; he looked like a vagrant. Clearly, the Minister had taken pains not to be recognized.

"What are your findings?" Godfrey asked without greeting the potions master. Ever since Blaor started his tests, the Minister had been anxious to hear how it went.

"Exactly as expected, sir," Blaor said with naked pride. "My theories were proven one hundred percent!"

"Wonderful," Godfrey commented. "How soon before the potion will work on the entirety of the Muggle population?"

"On such a large scale, we're talking about tens of millions of Muggles. I suspect that it would take about three to four weeks to properly alter the Muggles once exposed," Blaor speculated. "The necessary amount of potion would still need to be brewed as well. With all things considered, I believe a target of six to seven weeks is optimal, sir."

"Good, good," Godfrey congratulated. "Get to it straight away. The sooner we get the Muggles out of our hair the sooner we can focus on deal with the Death Eater scum. I'll see that you get enough funding. It will be transferred to your Gringotts account by morning. The Ministry has reserve finances that I can dip into for that without drawing too much attention."

The Minister began to walk out of the dirty alley, and he turned. "Remember, Mr. Blaor, the future of the wizarding world rests in your hands."

**x**

**x**

The night air bit at her nose and chilled the tears as they rolled down her face. Tonks had arrived in the alley two minutes before midnight and she now waited in the cold for Moody to show.

She knew that he was already there, waiting somewhere in the inky darkness. Moody and his philosophy _of "Constant Vigilance_" meant the retired Auror had gotten there at least thirty minutes previously and had checked every square inch of the alley; looking for wards, traps, or anything out of the ordinary. Tonks knew it wasn't that Moody mistrusted her in particular; it was just in his nature to be so paranoid. A part of her had wished he didn't trust her. If he didn't then he would not have been lured into a trap.

Then, at exactly midnight, Tonks could hear Moody's heavy wooden leg clomping on the cobblestone. Lurching out of the shadows, Moody kept his good eye on Tonks while his magical spun in every direction, constantly looking for an attack, like it always did. His wand was already clutched in his gnarled right hand.

"You said something about a spy," he grumbled as he closed the distance. "Who is it and where'd you hear it from?"

"I'm sorry," she muttered and whipped out her wand. Tonks shouted _"Expelliarmus!"_

Before the magic even hit Moody's wand, Tonks quickly cast an Anti-Apparation Ward.

Despite Moody's inborn paranoia, he had not expected Tonks' actions and his wand was knocked from his hand. Instantly, he began to reach for his backup wand hidden in his trouser leg. He was planning on Stunning Tonks and then figure out why she disarmed him.

But just as he began to pull his spare wand free, over a dozen Death Eaters popped into view in a tight circle around Moody and Tonks. In one hand they held their wands while the other clasped a long length of rope —obviously a Portkey. The sole witch in the group shouted_ "Accio Wand!"_ and Moody's backup wand was pulled from its hiding place and flew into her hand.

Even if he had not been disarmed, Moody knew that fighting would be fruitless and foolish when he was outnumbered as greatly as he was. Moody decided to err on the side of caution and activate his emergency Portkey.

_"Accio Moody's Portkey!" _shouted Tonks with a sob. The sock flew out of the old Auror's back pocket and soared to Tonks.

"What the hell are you doing, girl?" demanded Moody. Both of his eyes were firmly fixed on his betrayer.

"I'm so sorry, they have my Mum and Dad," wailed Tonks. "They would've killed them if I didn't do this."

"You should've come to me, girl. We could've figured this out," Moody said with sad disappointment. "You should've come to me.

Tonks bit her fingers in anguish, waiting for some Death Eater, Bellatrix more likely, to cast the Killing Curse at Moody.

"Okay, Nymphadora, now it's time for you to finish your test," Bellatrix said.

The young Auror looked at her evil aunt in utter revulsion. With a pathetic quaver to her voice, Tonks asked "_W-w-wh_-what?"

"You didn't know? Luring Moody here was only part of your test. You have to kill him. I guess that part of your test must've slipped my mind," Bellatrix explained before cackling madly

"You sick bitch," spat Tonks.

Moody stood there, knowing that it would be pointless to beg or argue. If Tonks didn't kill him, one of the Death Eaters certainly would.

"Kill him or your Mummy and Daddy will scream and scream," crowed Bellatrix.

Tonks looked at her former mentor and prayed that he had figured out some way to escape. But he just stood there, frowning back at her with regret etched on his hard and weathered face.

"Do it, girl," he ordered. "You made your choice. Now it's time to back it up."

"I didn't have a choice!" cried Tonks. Moody turned his face away from her. "They'll kill my parents!"

"For the love of all that's holy, please stop crying and kill him!" barked Bellatrix.

Tonks leveled her wand at Moody and forced herself to stop shaking. With bile burning her throat, she began to enchant. _"A-Av-Avad-"_

"Hurry up or your dirty blooded father will be castrated!" snarled Bellatrix.

_"A-Avada K-Kedavra!"_ Tonks cried out.

A thin, green bolt of magic leapt from her wand and struck Moody directly in the chest. Instead of just collapsing to the ground, the old wizard's face contorted in agony and her clutched at his breast.

"That was the poorest Killing Curse I've ever seen," Bellatrix giggled.

Tonks watch in wide eyed horror as Moody dropped to his knees. Her Killing Curse had been so weak, that it had not been quick and merciless; it was causing Moody agonizing pain.

"You may want to cast it again. By the looks of it, Moody's in quite a bit of pain," suggested Bellatrix flippantly. "Although, I rather like watching him suffer so I wouldn't mind if you just let him dies slowly."

To Moody, it had felt like a white-hot poker had been rammed through his chest and fire was eating at his torso; burning his flesh, muscle, and bone. The pain robbed him of his breath and brought him to his knees.

Bellatrix's cruel comment had elicited a sick chuckle from the other Death Eaters. Clearly they too like watching the great dark wizard hunter die slowly.

Tonks took a breath; she had to cast the foul curse once more to end Moody's suffering as well as to not let the bitch and her flunkies have the pleasure of watching his painful death.

_"Avada Kedavra!" _the young witch cried out once more. Just as before, the power behind the curse had been weak. But mercifully, it had been enough to end Moody's suffering. He crumpled to the ground.

"I guess that's something they don't really teach in Auror Academy; you have to hate the target enough to end their life in order for the Killing Curse to work properly," Bellatrix said mirthfully. "Otherwise, you'll just kill the target slowly and painfully. Which is what you pretty much did to Moody, wasn't it Tonks?"

Tonks dropped her wand and she was rocked by deep, painful sobs.

"Now that you've past your test, your parents get to live a bit longer," Bellatrix told the crying witch. "We'll expect news from you every so often. Such as Ministry plans and Order of the Phoenix happenings. If you don't write every so often, we'll grow concerned about your allegiances and we'll be force to hurt your mummy and daddy some more. Do you understand?"

Tonks nodded her head.

"Good," the evil witch said and she slipped a piece of parchment into Tonks' pocket. "There's a code on that paper. Use it to tell us of any information you come across."

The young witch had not bothered to look up as some unknown Death Eater removed Moody's magical eye from his skull while another retrieved the dead wizard's wand that had been knocked from his hand by her Disarming Spell. When a third Death Eater transfigured Moody's body into a piece of trash and then set it on fire, Tonks still could not bear to look at what she had done. And she didn't look up as Bellatrix and her fellow Death Eaters took up their Portkeys once again and vanished. She just stood there, in the dark alley, crying hysterically, wishing that she'd die while the thing that used to be Moody's corpse burnt to ashes.

**x**

**x**

The three witches fell into their new routine easily. Susan was able to have her work shift changed to evenings, allowing her to nurse Harry during the morning and early afternoon. Hermione would head to the hut the instant she left the Ministry and take over for Susan to cover the evening, while Daphne took the night watch.

Each one practically dismissed their social lives for Harry's wellbeing. Hermione and Daphne ended up with only a few minutes out of each day to spend with each other. Those scant moments were used to their fullest. Susan felt relieved at least; with the hectic schedule, between work and watching Harry, she had little time to fret over her failed relationship with Carl. And since she now rarely had time to talk at length with her friends, she didn't have to lie to them about Carl.

Susan, Hermione, and Daphne each privately noticed something peculiar when they were with Harry. Their minds tended to wander to lustful thoughts. Each witch would catch herself looking at his lips, speculating whether he was a soft kisser or a strong one. They also found their eyes lingering on his blanket covered manhood. When Harry became erect, which happened frequently, the witches had an even harder time not being mesmerized by it.

None of them spoke of these thoughts, each one thinking she alone was shameful enough to look at Harry lustfully while he was so sick. Such thoughts about a comatose wizard were too embarrassing to discuss with one another.

**x**

**x**

The tension that hung in the air of Lord Voldemort's throne room was palpable. The Death Eaters who guarded the Dark Lord couldn't help but tremble out of fear that their Master would vent His frustrations upon them.

Despite the happy news he received a few days previous concerning that pest Moody's death, anger seized his mood and rage flowed off of his pale skin as he sat on his throne. Voldemort considered himself a patient man, but even he had his limits. After months of planning and preparation, followed by months of waiting, even now his new pet was still missing. He was rightfully angry.

His Death Eaters stationed at St. Mungo's reported nothing unusual at the hospital. Bellatrix had disposed of Potter's Muggle relatives, but no sign of the boy was found at the house. And Wormtail, despite his inherent ineptitude, was able to confirm the Acromantulas were swarming all over Hogwarts; if Potter had gone there, he surely would've been eaten the moment he appeared. Even his spy, who kept an eye on the Order of the Phoenix and Potter's friends; the Weasleys and the Mudblood Granger, had no news.

But Voldemort could feel the boy; it was like an irritating itch he couldn't scratch. He knew Potter was alive. Clearly, the boy had returned to this plane, but where? He could be, literally, anywhere. Voldemort had to be patient; the boy would turn up eventually. And when he did, Voldemort would claim his pet.

However, the Dark Lord was... uneasy. The desire to have his pet so he could smite his enemies had created a knot in the pit of his stomach. He needed release.

For a moment, Voldemort eyed his guards. A quick flick of his wand and they'd be screaming. But they would not beg; they would accept any pain their Master gave them. That would not satisfy Voldemort; he wanted to hear someone scream for mercy.

Setting his mind to this task, Voldemort walked out of his throne room. Fifteen minutes later, the Dark Lord stood in the back garden of some unsuspecting family. Through the window, Voldemort could see a young boy perform some sort of skit for his family. He could hear peals of laughter coming from inside the house. The boy bowed as his siblings and parents applauded and cheered. If he was so inclined to look at his feelings, Voldemort would have noticed a bit of bitterness and jealousy as he watched the happy family; a mockery of what he was denied as an orphan.

A cruel smile curled on Voldemort's snake-like mouth; soon their cheers would turn to screams.

**x**

**x**

During her first day of watching over Harry by herself, Hermione had conjured a comfy chair and sat right next to the ailing wizard. After feeding him various nutrients and regenerative potions, Hermione spoke to Harry; telling him what had happened since he went missing. She spoke to him mostly to keep herself busy and focused. She had quickly found when she did this, she didn't fret over Harry excessively. One topic she did not discus with Harry was her relationship with Ron or the rape. She couldn't bring herself to talk about it with Harry. The thought of telling Harry that his best mate was a rapist worried Hermione. Even though she doubted that he could hear her, Hermione found herself wondering if Harry would believe her. Would he discount her story, thinking Ron would never do such a vile deed? Or would he understand that she was telling the truth, and out the sense of nobleness that he had, hunt Ron down and seek vengeance.

On the second day, desiring to be even closer, Hermione sat on Harry's bed. She went so far as to place his head in her lap. Something about this close contact seemed comforting to Hermione. She ran her finger through his hair, caressing his scalp. She rested her hand on his chest for a long time, content to simply feel the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Shortly before her shift ended on this second day, Hermione was quite appalled to find herself playing with Harry's exposed nipples. In a movement that she had not consciously noticed, her hand moved from lying on his chest to his left nipple. She had rolled the tip of her forefinger around the small bud until it stood erect. With her face burning out of embarrassment, Hermione attempted to move her hand away from his nipple, but didn't. Instead, her fingers busied themselves by playfully flicking the now rigid nub. Hermione's embarrassment grew even more when she realized that she liked this action. Furthermore, a stray thought entered her mind as her fingers continued to dance with his sensitive flesh: _'how different would his nipple taste from Daphne's?'_ Her mind brought up an image of bending over and licking his pink nub.

Carefully lifting Harry's head from her lap, she moved off the bed. How could she think these perverted thoughts, she wondered as she moved to the far side of the hut; trying to put distance between her and Harry.

When Hermione arrived on the third day; her eyelids were heavy with exhaustion. Her supervisor, Martha, had her running pointless errands all over the Ministry Building the entire day. First, Hermione had to run down to the fourth floor to ask maintenance to check on the floo connection from Martha's home. Then Hermione had to deliver various verbal messages to a number of Ministry officials; including Percy Weasley, Minister Godfrey's personal assistant John Daily, and the same little plump witch Hermione had met when filling out her application so many months before.

"I had a problem with the inter office mail yesterday. My messages kept flying into the wrong offices. I can't trust them anymore," was the excuse Martha gave Hermione for forcing the younger witch to run all over the place. Hermione thought this excuse was dubious at best. More likely than not, Martha just wanted to run her ragged out of spite.

Dragging her feet into Hagrid's hut, Hermione was too tired to conjure up her comfy chair and just plopped down in one of the lumpy chairs leaning against the wall. Her first compulsion was to sit on the soft warm bed next to Harry. But Hermione didn't want a repeat performance where she was stimulating his nipple.

As she watched her unconscious friend through drowsy eyes, Hermione felt a tingle in her loins. It swelled and grew; spreading up into her stomach and making her chest tight. She tried to ignore it, to push it away. But the sensation drove thoughts and images into her head. The witch didn't just want to place her hand on his chest. No the desire in her lower belly wanted more. It wanted her to strip down to nothing, toss the sheets covering Harry aside and crawl on top of him. This dark need wanted Hermione to lay on him, to feel his bare flesh on hers, to push her breasts into his chest. The thought of her naked skin pressing against his made her prickle. She wondered what his organ would feel like, wedged in between their two bodies. Would the pressure that was sure to build up in his manhood send shivers through her body?

Desperately, Hermione tried to quell these thoughts. She tried to focus on more innocent things, but it didn't work. She ended up imagining slithering down his body; her breasts dragging down his chest while his hard cock tugged at her belly. Just the thought of having that rod pressed up against her body made Hermione quiver and ache. She wanted to know what it felt like to squeeze it between her mounds, to feel his heat.

A desire to nuzzle her face against his meat came over her. She wanted to bask in his warmth and fragrance as it rolled over her checks, nose and lips. Somehow she knew instinctively that Harry would not smell of urine and old sweat like Ron had. No, she knew his scent would be pleasant, even inviting.

Hermione snapped out of her depraved thoughts the moment her fingers touched her cloth covered nether lips. She had been so caught up in her thoughts she had unknowingly moved her hand between her own legs to relieve her pressure.

Looking at Harry's still form, Hermione scolded herself. Not only was she disgusted at the idea of molesting the helpless wizard, she was nauseated over some of the foul and base words her mind had used to describe the acts she had imagined.

What drove her to think such things? Was it simply because she was overly tired from work? Or was there something lurking deep inside of her; something Daphne had unlocked when the black haired witch had pretended to be Harry when she made love to Hermione?

**x**

**x**

After the sun went down that night, Daphne arrived at the hut to take over for Hermione.

"Hey, sweetie, are you okay?" Daphne asked her lover. Hermione had a ragged look about her. Not only was she exhausted, but Daphne recognized a hint of lust in Hermione's eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Hermione replied dismissively. "I just had a long day at work."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, all I need is to go home and sleep."

"You could sleep here tonight," Daphne said coyly before biting the tip of her tongue in between her teeth. Reaching out, Daphne intertwined her fingers with Hermione's.

"No, Daphne, it wouldn't be right," Hermione said, knowing full well that her lover had no intention of sleeping. "Not with Harry right next to us."

"He's comatose, love," Daphne argued. "It's not like he'd suddenly wake up because we're making love."

"What if the potions finally start to work and he does wake up? What then?" speculated Hermione. "What would happen if the first thing he sees is us together on the floor?"

"Besides the fact he'd wake to one hell of a show? Maybe we could ask him to join," Daphne offered with a demure smile. She wanted to see Hermione's nose crinkle disapprovingly.

"Daphne," Hermione reprimanded.

"Hermione, it's been days since we've been together for more than a quick shag," whined Daphne. "Ever since Harry's come back, we haven't had the chance to really spend time together. I'm not blaming anybody. But, hell, even Susan's love life isn't affected as badly as ours. She's out on a date with Carl right now. I just miss waking up in your arms, Hermione."

"I miss it too, baby," Hermione said, cupping her lover's face in her hands. "It's just that right now I'm too tired to appreciate you the way that I should. I don't want to do that to you. I'll make it up to you; I have a day off at the end of the week. We'll have an early lunch at some fancy place and then we'll spend the rest of the day in bed together, okay?"

With a smile, Daphne suggested; "Maybe we can convince Susan to pick up your shift that day as well. That way we can spend even more time together."

"That would be great," Hermione said, a bloom appearing on her cheeks. She kissed Daphne hungrily before leaving.

A few hours later, Daphne drifted off to sleep. She dreamt of the day she and Hermione planned. The food was fabulous but it wasn't nearly as good as the sex that followed. She dreamed she had brought Hermione to climax time and time again. When it was time for Hermione to return the favor, the brunette witch knelt between Daphne's legs. The black haired witch growled in anticipation.

Suddenly, Daphne's dream-world shifted; Hermione was no longer between Daphne's legs. But rather, the brunette was sitting at the top of the bed with Daphne's head was resting in her lap.

"What are you doing up here?" Daphne asked, smiling up at her lover. "You won't be able to satisfy me from there."

"Don't worry, love. You'll be satisfied," Hermione said coyly. She indicated with a glance that Daphne should look down the bed.

Daphne grinned when she saw Harry, still deathly emaciated, kneeling between her legs. The dark haired witch was not surprised or frightened by Harry's sudden appearance. In fact, she wanted it. At the sight of his large organ standing proudly, hovering a breath away from her clit, Daphne spread her legs even wider, inviting him into her.

A happy moan escaped Daphne's throat as Harry's crown pushed passed her vulva. His organ was filling her up. The large odd bumps massaged her inner walls, sending wave after wave of delight through her body.

Hermione stroked Daphne's hair lovingly with a bemused look to her face. Daphne knew that her lover was enjoying the look of pleasure on her face while Harry's manhood stretched her out.

Daphne looked to her right and found Susan kneeling naked next to the bed, watching the couple making love.

The red-haired witch seemed transfixed by Harry's organ sliding in and out of Daphne's flower.

Licking her lips, Hermione asked Daphne; "Are you enjoying yourself?"

There wasn't any hint of jealousy in Hermione's voice, only love. Hermione took one of Daphne's nipples in her hand and started to tweak the sensitive flesh.

"Yes," Daphne answered with a hiss.

"Would you like me to lend a hand?" Susan asked from the side of the bed.

_"Yes-s-s!"_

Smiling, Susan reached out and slid her hand in between Harry and Daphne's bodies. At the same time Hermione leaned over Daphne and began to sensuously kiss Harry as he continued thrusting into the witch. Susan's hand slipped down Daphne's svelte, sweat covered belly. The moment the witch's finger brushed up against her clit, Daphne awoke.

She was sitting across the room from Harry. Her knickers were practically sopping. She had never had a dream so intense, so real. It felt almost as f she actually had an orgasm, with her three lovers all touching her.

Looking up at Harry, Daphne saw the bulge in the sheets, as if Harry had known what she had been dreaming.

**x**

**x**

"How was your date?" Daphne asked when Susan walked into Hagrid's hut to take the morning watch.

"Oh, just wonderful," the red haired witch said in an emotionless way. "Just grand."

"What happened?" Daphne asked. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just fine," Susan replied. "I'm just tired is all."

"Do you want me to cover your watch?" the dark haired witch said and she cupped her friend's face in her hands. Daphne was suddenly reminded of her vivid dream as she held Susan's face. The image of Susan rubbing Daphne's swollen clit made her ache. Daphne forced her imagination back, something was clearly bothering Susan. And it wasn't appropriate for Daphne to have such thoughts when her friend was hurting. It looked to Daphne as if the red-head was on the verge of tears for some reason. "Why don't you head home and a kip."

"No, I'm fine. Really," Susan said, forcing a light smile. "You go spend some time with Hermione."

"You sure?" asked Daphne. She was concerned for Susan, but she was looking forward to spending time with Hermione. After the dream she had, Daphne needed to be shagged desperately.

"Yes, I'm sure. Go and give Hermione a kiss for me, okay?" Susan said, ushering Daphne to the door. To show the black haired witch that she was indeed fine, she joked, "In fact, do more than just kiss her for me, if you know what I mean. Lick her and poke her or whatever it is you two do to each other when you're alone."

"If you insist," Daphne said with a smile before Apparating away.

The moment after Daphne vanished, Susan let out a long sigh. She hated lying to Daphne but she had to continue the ruse that she and Carl were still together. Susan even went to go out to dinner by herself, telling her friends that she had a date with Carl to perpetuate the subterfuge. She couldn't bring herself to tell them the truth yet.

Just that night however, when she was out on one of her "fake dates", she stumbled across Carl. The son of a bitch was already with another witch! The two were sitting very close to each other; the witch was practically in his lap, laughing softly at whatever the bastard was saying. The scene infuriated Susan. Just days ago, he broke her heart, and now he had a tramp draped across him. When she saw Carl's hand slip down under the table, Susan knew that he had put a hand on the witch's thigh; he had often done that same thing to her. Susan had to get out of there; she couldn't bear to see Carl, much less with another witch.

Susan almost took Daphne up on her offer go back to the flat. She was dead tired and had barely slept a wink. She forced herself to stay awake for she feared she'd see Carl with his new tramp in her dreams. The red haired witch needed to be alone, but she also needed to stay away from anything that reminded her of Carl. And her flat reminded her of her ex-boyfriend. She couldn't even contemplate sleeping in her bed; the bed that she and Carl shared many nights together.

Now that she was alone, essentially alone that is — Harry didn't count because he was in a coma — Susan let herself cry. She sobbed and wept for a good long time before she decided it was time to drown her sorrows, as she had planned.

She pulled the bottle of Fire-Whiskey from her robes and screwed the top off. Needing to get very pissed as quickly as she could, Susan abandoned all pretenses by placing the bottle to her lips and taking several large gulps of alcohol. The liquid burned her throat and made her eyes water as it poured down to her belly. She ignored the pain and took another long swig. Strange warmth filled her tummy, and quickly spread down her legs and up her chest. The third swig still burned, but not as much. With the fourth swig, her fingers began tingling and her head started to sway back and forth. In a few short minutes, Susan had successfully drunk nearly a sixth of the large bottle.

"What the fuck is his problem?" Susan asked the comatose Harry as if he had some insight on her problems regardless of the fact he was in a coma. Her voice was already slurring slightly from the whiskey. "I'm a pretty witch." She took another large gulp of alcohol. Imagining the comatose wizard was participating in the conversation, Susan said; "What was that Harry? You're right. I'm not just pretty, 'm beautiful. Just look as these tits. And don't forget my bum! If you were awake, I'd ask you to give it a good smack."

She took another long drink from the bottle, swallowing two mouthfuls before pulling to bottle from her lips. The liquid no longer burned, but now tasted sweet and smoky, like some exotic candy.

"I'm also a hoot," she continued talking to Harry as if they were having a conversation. "I'm funny as hell. And I like it in the bottom. What kind of bloke would pass up on a witch like that? Any wizard would give his wand to have a fun loving witch with big tits, a nice arse, and loves it in the bum."

The red haired witch drank two more gulps of the amber liquor. The interior of the hut began to sway in her vision.

"What was that Harry?" she said. "You're right again, Harry. Carl's a fool to toss me to the side. Fuck him.

"And that tripe about me not giving good head was just stupid. He just said that to get me mad," she continued, her voice growing louder and the words slurring together more and more as the alcohol took its toll. "'m great at blow-jobs. Just ask any of my ex-boyfriends"

Suddenly, Susan began to sob. She fell to her knees with the realization she had to now list Carl, the wizard she hoped to marry, with the rest of her ex-boyfriends. The shock of this revelation surprised her and had broken down her already weakened resolve.

She set the bottle down on the floor and stood up. The floor was hard and she found herself wanting to sit on something more comfortable. Susan swayed and staggered to Harry's bed. Missing the bed entirely and flopping gracelessly on the floor next to it. Forgetting her desire to get off of the hard floor, the red head leaned toward Harry's face and began to whisper in his ear.

"You'd never do that to me would you, Harry?" she asked as she twirled her finger in her own short hair. She could smell her own breath, rank and foul with alcohol. "Nah, you're not the type. I didn't get to know you all that well at school, but Hermione talks 'bout you all the time. And from what she told us, you'd never dump a witch just 'cause you got bored with her."

Wriggling up until she was half laying on the bed, she rested her head on his bare chest and continued to talk in a rambling and disjointed fashion.

"She loves you, ya know. I don't think she really realizes it herself, but she does. Truly and completely and madly in love with you. She's with Daphne now, but if you were to open your pretty green eyes and ask you her to be with you, she might jump you right there and then. Though, Hermione's too noble to just abandon Daphne. She's just like you in that aspect. So even if you two were to fall madly in love, Hermione wouldn't just dump Daphne. But then again, I think she's infatuated with you too, Daphne that is. Hell, I'm a little smitten as well.

"You can't blame me or Daphne," she continued. "You're so fuckin' brave, valiant, kind, and noble. And that penis of yours... _Woo-hoo!_ Nice and big and fat... if I knew you had that between your legs at school, I would've jumped you. Dragged you into a cupboard, I would've. Leaned you against the wall and beat my cunny up with your Bludgers' bat."

As if his body knew what Susan was talking about, Harry's organ began to swell once more.

"Oh, there you go again," Susan commented as his penis rose up under the sheet. "It's like bloody clockwork, it is. Don't be ashamed Harry, its nature. Hermione told me she read somewhere that males get an average of three erections a night. And you should be proud of it as well. Look at it! It even dwarfs Carl's! Dickless piece of crap that he is.

"Speaking of Carl, d'ya know what he said to me?" she asked Harry. "He said I gave lousy blow-jobs... oh, wait... I already told you 'bout that didn't I?"

Her eyes fell once more on the bulge in the sheets covering Harry's nether region.

"You poor man," she slurred soothingly. "Here you are, all hard and stuff, day after day and you've haven't cum once. I mean, I've lost count how many times I've see that tent in those sheets."

Susan groped at the sheet and pulled it down and off of Harry's still body. She tossed the bed cover to the ground. This action nearly robbed her of her poor balance and almost sent her crashing to the floor once more. Righting herself, Susan returned her focus to Harry. Her eyes traveled over his scarred flesh until she took in his manhood.

_"Oh-ho_, just look at that thing!" she heralded drunkenly. "Damn, I still think I could use it as a coat rack."

As she giggled over her own joke, another tingle danced through her body. However, this tingle had nothing to do with the Fire-Whiskey. Biting her lip, she repeated; "Poor, poor man... hasn't cum once..." Unconsciously, her fingertips swirled around the sensitive skin of her nipple through her robes as she continued to eye Harry. The alcohol and lust she was feeling was making her dizzy. "It must be bothersome, huh, Harry? Having all those wonderful erections and not once getting to cum... I'm surprised your nuts aren't glowing blue right now."

With a guilty expression, the red haired witch looked around, as if worried someone was watching. Certain that they were alone; Susan reached under her skirt and started to take her knickers down. The proper part in her mind pleaded with her not to do it. She listened, but only a little.

"It's unfair if I leave him aroused, the poor man," she argued aloud with herself after hoisting her knickers back up. "No shagging then. Just a blow job... give him some relief at least. And prove to Carl, _damn him_, that I can give good head."

The red haired witch crawled clumsily on the bed and straddled the comatose wizard's feet. Gently, she wrapped her fingers around the base of his organ to hold it in place.

"_He, he,_ my fingers can't touch," she giggled drunkenly. "Big, fat willy."

The heat coming from his organ made her hand warm. She bent over and ran her tongue along the underside of his rod. Harry smelt and tasted earthy; a pleasant smell like grass and trees after a rain shower. Her tongue moved over his veins and the unnatural bumps, painting each one with her saliva in turn, until she reached his bulbous crown. The tip of her tongue traced the head and danced along his urethra. Her lips encircled his crown and she began to move up and down. Harry's rod pressed down on her tongue and filled her mouth.

"Big, fat, _beautiful_ willy," she slurred.

Reaching between her own legs, Susan began to rub herself through her knickers. Normally, she would get slightly aroused when performing fellatio. But for some reason, she was especially hot while giving Harry head.

She swallowed a bit of his pre-cum. It tasted like something sweet and musky and made her tongue tingle.

Susan moaned on his organ as she thumbed her clit. She was so wet and hot that her knickers were already soaked. Never before had she been so aroused while giving head.

A few moments later, Harry's organ jumped in her mouth and his seed splashed on her tongue and the insides of her cheeks. The moment his ejaculate landed in her mouth, a strong sensation akin to a static spark rushed through Susan's entire body. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and she shivered. It wasn't an orgasm, but it was intense and unlike anything she had ever felt before.

This odd sensation snapped her out of her drunken stupor and she realized what she had done. She shot up in horror, and looked down at Harry, his body wet with sweat. If Hermione or Daphne found out what she did, they would never forgive her.

Susan gulped and grabbed her wand. She quickly performed several cleansing charms on herself and Harry, removing any evidence. Chastising herself for molesting Harry, Susan put as much distance in between the wizard and herself. She sat in the far corner of the hut.

She was still tingling; not as acutely as a few moments before, but it was still there. Another sensation grew slowly inside her: she wanted to be close to Harry. It wasn't an urge to comfort the sick wizard, but a burning desire in her. She found herself wanting to lie next to him and place her hands on his body.

Susan squeezed her fists so tightly that her nails cut into her palms. She continued to squeeze, forcing the desire from her. Bile crept up her throat at the thought of what she had done. She hated herself for violating Harry. She was dirty. But a part of her wanted to crawl back into his bed and snuggle up to him which made her feel worst.

"You're a dirty little bitch, Susan," she cursed herself. She looked at the clock, praying that time would move faster so Hermione could take over her shift and Susan could leave the hut.

**x**

**x**

In the small house behind the Burrow, the pleasant aroma of Mafalda's cooking filled the air and made Ron's stomach growl in anticipation. He waited hungrily at the small table for his wife to bring him his meal. With a plate of steaming food held out in front of her, Mafalda walked to Ron and took her place across from him. Her husband proceeded to shovel the meal into his mouth, which Mafalda took as a compliment. The speed at which he gobbled down the food was a sign that he appreciated her cooking.

Once he was finished with his breakfast, Mafalda brought up a subject that had been bothering her since Ginny had discussed it with her.

"Ronnie, love, we have to talk," Mafalda stated.

"What is it, dear?" he asked, wiping food from his mouth with the sleeve of his robe.

"It's about your old girlfriend, the Muggle-born."

Ron felt like he was about to lose the food he had just eaten.

"What about her?" he asked through gritted teeth. Ron didn't like talking about the bitch.

"Well, you said that she tried to get those Muggles to capture you, that you heard her voice. She was the one to set them on you."

"Yeah, and it didn't work," Ron said. He had taken pride knowing that he had foiled Hermione's plans to ruin his life twice now.

"But it could've," Mafalda argued. "One of the Muggles could've gotten lucky and dragged you away. Ginny told me when the Muggles capture a witch or wizard, they give them some sort of potion, _drugs_ I think she called them, and then the cut up the magical person; trying to find out how we can do magic."

"Yeah, but it didn't work," Ron pointed out. "I didn't get caught."

"But you could have," his wife repeated, tears shimmering in her eyes.

"Sweetie, I got away, I'm fine," Ron said as soothingly as he could.

"First, she tried to get you chucked into Azkaban. And then she tries to get you dissected by Muggles. What will she do next?" Tears trickled down her round cheeks.

"Don't worry. I've beat her plans to hurt me twice. I can do it again," he said confidently.

"No, Ronnie, I can't think about what she'll try next," Mafalda sobbed. "What if she succeeds? I can't live without my husband. And our baby can't live without its daddy!" she cried while holding the small bulge in her belly.

"It'll be okay," Ron said. "I can handle Granger."

"Damn it, Ronnie, listen to me," she wailed. "You have to report her. Tell your supervisor, Wright, what happened. What she did to you with those Muggles was against the law. Ginny told me so."

"I won't do that. This is a matter between her and me," he said firmly. What he didn't want to say was he couldn't possibly tell Wright what had happened. He was ashamed to admit Granger was toying with him. It made him feel less of a man. He wasn't about to share his humiliation with anyone.

Standing, Ron kissed his wife on the cheek and patted her belly.

"I have to go. My shift starts in five minutes," Ron said with a comforting grin. "Why don't you spent the day with Mum; she'll make you feel better."

With that, he stepped out of his home and Apparated to work.

**x**

**x**

Hermione was pleased; the potions they had been giving Harry finally seemed to have started to work. It looked like he gained a few pounds, not much but it was an improvement. And Daphne had informed Hermione she had seen him move his fingers a little, which Hermione took as wonderful news. Hopefully, if this continued, Harry would be awake in a matter of time.

Something bothered her though, according to all of the research she had done on the various healing potions and charms they used on Harry, once signs of progress had begun, the healing should've become accelerated. Even with the extensive damage Harry had received, the potions and charms should have, by all accounts, been working faster. Even though she took whatever progress as a blessing, doubt still plagued her.

**x**

**x**

It had been four days since her mistake with Harry. Susan could not stop thinking about it. The way he felt in her mouth; the memory of his warmth and taste intoxicated her. She thought herself as a dirty and disturbed witch not only for molesting poor Harry, but for continuing to have such desires.

And those desires were not confined to her visits to the hut. The day after the incident, while she was at work, Susan accidentally dozed off and had a dream that had made her even more ashamed. She was dreaming of Harry in her mouth; it was so vivid that she could once again taste and smell him. As she worked on him in the dream, Daphne and Hermione worked on Susan. Her two flat mates used their tongues on Susan's nether region. When Susan woke up, her knickers were sopping wet, and her body was begging for release.

When it was her turn to watch over him, Susan ignored the desire to touch him, but it was constantly there; lurking beneath the surface. Ever since that dream, she was having more and more trouble fighting off the urges to repeat her actions with Harry. While she sat with him, she tried to busy her mind with other tasks; such as reading books or tidying up the hut. Susan did notice something odd when she was with him however; despite the fact that she was berating herself for molesting Harry, she felt simply happy and content whenever she was close to him. Also, Harry seemed to thrive, ever so slightly, in her presence. He even raised his hand up several inches one day while she was dusting some furniture next to the bed. Susan couldn't explain it, but somehow she knew Harry was getting stronger only when she was around.

But by the fourth day, Susan's resolve failed. She felt as if Harry was calling out to her throughout the evening as she worked at the Ministry building; the phantom calling made her tingle and ache. When she slept, she dreamt again of his manhood in her mouth and how hot it had made her. It was a silly thing to think that Harry was calling to her; the man was comatose and hundreds of miles away. Even though she knew the idea of Harry needing her and was calling to her was just a figment of her imagination, Susan needed him; to take in his aroma, to feel him, to run her hands over his frail body.

"Hi, Daphne," Susan greeted her friend as she walked into the hut, trying desperately to hide her arousal from her friend. "How's Harry today?"

"He's still hasn't made a sound, but he's definitely improving," Daphne answered. "I think he's gained about five pounds over the last day or two."

"Great," Susan stated. Her eyes focused on Harry and she imagined him urging her to his bed.

"Well, I'm off," Daphne said and she headed to the door. "Me and the little lady are going out for an early lunch today."

"Enjoy yourself," Susan said.

"You too," Daphne returned and walked out the door. With a wink, she added "Don't do anything I wouldn't do," before she Apparated away.

For a split second, Susan was worried Daphne had known what she was planning on doing after the black haired witch left. But Daphne's comment was innocent.

Now that she was alone with Harry, she took a deep breath and moved toward him. As she made her way to his bed, his organ began to swell up beneath the sheet. It was as if he was anticipating her.

Susan began to strip. Her body was tingling all over in anticipation. Goose flesh blossomed over her skin as her heart raced.

**x**

**x**

With a crack, Daphne arrived outside the flat she, Hermione, and Susan shared. She opened the door to find her lover sitting at the kitchen table, looking over old reports.

"Hello, love. What are you reading?" Daphne asked, hugging Hermione from behind.

Hermione turned and kissed Daphne's lips before answering; "I'm reading up on the Gaunt family history. I'm trying to see if they had some property that Voldemort is using as a hide out."

The brunette witch set down her paper and stood. She embraced Daphne and gave her a proper kiss.

"You ready for our date?" Hermione asked.

"In a bit," Daphne answered in between licking her lips. "I need to shower first. You can join me if you want," she stated knowingly.

"The reservation is in twenty minutes," Hermione said with a frown. "We'll be late if we dawdle."

"Aw, but I like it when we dawdle," Daphne said with a fake pout. "Especially when we dawdle together in the shower."

"Hurry or we'll be late," Hermione finished giving a playful swat on her lover's bottom.

**x**

**x**

Susan had been so aroused and wet at the thought of Harry she didn't need to prepare herself. The moisture trickled down the insides of the thighs as she mounted Harry. Her wetness coated his shaft as she lowered herself on him. The large, strange bumps on his organ rubbed and massaged her labia and clitoris as it pushed into her, sending shivers of delight through her body.

Once she took him completely in, she sat on his lap. He was very large, stretching her out more than she had been in a long time. She took several deep breaths as she became accustomed to his length and girth. When she had become acclimated to his size, she slowly raised herself up. Each time one of the bumps on his shaft popped out of her, it sent intense waves of pleasure through her body. She then lowered herself back down again.

It was amazing. It wasn't just the fact he was large and filled her up. It was so much more than that. Susan couldn't explain it, but when she was slowly riding on the comatose man, it felt as if they were connected on a spiritual level. As if he was touching her mind and soul with his.

**x**

**x**

As Daphne rinsed the suds from her lean body, she suddenly recalled the present she had bought for Hermione. It was just a simple heart shaped locket she had found in Diagon Alley. Daphne hadn't purchased it for any special occasion; she just thought of Hermione when she saw it. Daphne had forgotten it back at the hut. Cursing herself for her forgetfulness, she hopped out of the shower and dressed quickly. She rushed back into the parlor, saying, "Hermione, I forgot something at the hut. I'll be right back."

"Make it quick, sweetie," Hermione said with a smile. "Our reservation is in five minutes. We can't be late."

"Don't worry," Daphne said and gave her lover a peck on the lips. "I'll be back in a mo'."

Daphne closed her eyes and felt as if she was being squeezed through a tube. When she opened them back up, she found herself in front of the hut's door.

**x**

**x**

Susan was moaning loudly. She had already had one mind-blowing orgasm and another, stronger one, was rapidly building. Her nipples were hard and erect and her skin was on fire. She felt as if she was about to burst. Sweat dripped from her naked body and rained down on Harry's. The red haired witch bit her lip when she felt the climax approaching.

She desperately wanted his hands on her; to squeeze her breasts, pinch her hard nipples and run his hand through her hair. But his catatonic state refused her this pleasure.

**x**

**x**

She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Daphne was standing in the doorway of the hut, still gripping the handle and couldn't tear her eyes away from the disturbing scene in front of her.

Susan was riding Harry! The red-haired witch was naked and shagging the wizard. She was obviously in ecstasy judging by her flushed complexion and how her eyes were tightly closed.

Daphne was so shocked at what she saw she couldn't move or make a sound. She stood in the doorway and watched in awe struck horror. Her best friend was molesting a comatose man!

But deep down inside, Daphne felt a pang. It was small, almost unnoticeable, but it was there. She was stunned to find that a part of her was envious of Susan.

**x**

**x**

She felt him cum. Much like the time he ejaculated in her mouth, Susan felt a bizarre sensation wash over her. But unlike the intense tingling that she felt the first time, it was much more powerful. The best way she could describe it was something similar to an electrical current or jolt, but it didn't hurt. In fact, it was just as pleasurable as an orgasm.

Panting, she rested on top of Harry, as he grew limp inside of her. With her eyes closed, she pressed her ear to his chest and listened to him breathing. His breaths were slow and deep and his heart pounded rhythmically in his chest. Then a realization dawned upon Susan; Harry was growing stronger. She had no idea how she knew this, but she was positive it was true.

"What they hell do you think you're doing?" a furious voice demanded.

Susan's eyes snapped open and she saw Daphne standing in the doorway. The black haired witch's face was red with rage and had tears flowing freely from her eyes.

"What do you think you're doing?" Daphne repeated angrily.

Panic took hold of Susan. Her best friend had just found her doing something foul: using a sick man to pleasure herself.

With her voice quivering, Susan said weakly "_I-I'm s-sorry_."

"Get off of him! Get off of him _RIGHT NOW!"_ screamed Daphne.

"I'm so _s-ss-_sorry," Susan repeated and she slowly dismounted Harry. She hastily picked up her robe and clutched it to her chest in a vain attempt to hide her body in shame.

"What the hell were you thinking?" Daphne demanded. Her voice was marred with sadness and anger.

Great globs of shameful tears spilled from Susan's eyes as she tried vainly to find the words to explain the situation.

**x**

**x**

Hermione checked the clock on the mantle place. Daphne was late by two minutes. Fearing that something was wrong at Hagrid's hut, Hermione Apparated directly to the small building, just outside the open door.

"Answer me, you disgusting pervert!" Hermione heard Daphne demand.

"What's going on here?" the brunette witch asked when she walked into the hut.

Several things caught Hermione's attention. First the smell; there was a faint musky aroma in the air that reminded her of the times she and Daphne were intimate. Then she noticed Susan's appearance. She was naked, clutching her robes to her body, futilely trying to hide herself. The red haired witch also had a tussled look about her. Besides the tears flowing freely down her face, Susan's hair was mucked up and she had a film of sweat coating her body.

When she saw Harry's body, Hermione's blood boiled. He, too, was dripping with sweat. But it was the sticky looking mess coating his genitals that infuriated her.

She stormed up to Susan and roughly smacked the witch across her face as hard as she could. Susan reeled back from the blow. The red haired witch fell against Harry's bed, where she sobbed hysterically.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" screeched Hermione. Spit flew from her mouth as she screamed. Rage consumed her, Susan had used Harry and it reminded Hermione of when she was raped. "YOU FUCKING SICK BITCH!""

"_Her_-Hermione... calm down..." Daphne requested. She too was furious at Susan, but Hermione was starting to scare her. Her lover's face had turned a fiery red and veins ballooned all over her face and neck. Daphne was frightened that Hermione was going to hurt herself if she continued.

"NO, I WILL NOT CALM DOWN!" Hermione shouted at Daphne. She turned back to Susan and screamed, "YOU THOUGHT YOU COULD USE MY FRIEND LIKE A DILDO, YOU SICK CUNT?"

"Hermione, stop shouting," a soft and weak voice requested from somewhere in the room.

"DID YOU GET OFF RAPING MY FRIEND? DID YOU?" the brunette witch screamed. Everything in the room was a blur except for Susan. Every fiber of her being was burning with rage and it all focus on Susan.

Susan sobbed guiltily.

"I've a headache," the soft voice stated.

"YOU COULD'VE KILLED HIM IN HIS WEAKENED STATE!" Hermione cried out. "DID YOU NEED TO GET SHAGGED SO BADLY THAT YOU WOULD RISK KILLING HIM?"

"Hermione," Daphne said and gently touched Hermione's arm.

"YOU DIRTY SLUT!"

"Hermione!" Daphne called out and shook her lover's arm. Hermione snapped her attention to Daphne, ready to unleash her anger at the black haired witch for interrupting her righteous rage. That was when she saw Daphne was pointing to Harry's bed.

Frail, thin arms moved right before Hermione's eyes. The emaciated limbs brought up skeletal hands to cover a gaunt face. His jaw opened and a soft and weak voice came from his lips.

"Please Hermione, stop shouting. I've got a bad headache," Harry Potter said.

**To be continued…**


	10. Chapter 10

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Ten

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and non-consensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major cannon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from cannon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

"Harry, oh my God," Hermione half cheered, half sobbed as she lunged for her friend lying in the bed. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight to her body. His skin felt wonderfully warm to the touch as she cried into the nape of his neck.

Not wanting to ruin Hermione and Harry's moment, Daphne silently walked up and gently pulled the bed sheets up to his waist, covering his nakedness.

"'s'okay," Harry said softly, as he too wrapped his weakened arms around his friend.

"I was worried that you'd never wake up," Hermione cried. Between sobs, Hermione took in Harry's aroma. Scents of grass and earth filled her nose, along with the musky odor of his ejaculate. An unfamiliar tingle formed in her loins.

Fearing the odd reaction she was developing, Hermione pulled away from Harry and stood. Despite removing herself from him, the tingle was still there. The tingle slowly began to turn into an itch.

Forcing her eyes away from Harry, her gaze fell upon Susan. The happiness Hermione felt over Harry's waking was quelled by the anger she felt for her red haired friend.

"Don't think I'm okay with what you did," Hermione snarled as Susan. The red head recoiled away.

Looking around groggily, Harry took in his surroundings. For the first time since he had been captured by Voldemort, Harry saw things in focus. He raised a shaky hand to his face, expecting to find his glasses. Harry was quite surprised to find none. Evidently, his vision had somehow been corrected.

He was in Hagrid's hut, just as he had wished for when he left the dark place. A black haired witch stood near Hermione. It took Harry a moment to recognize her as Daphne Greengrass; he hardly knew anything about her except she was a Slytherin from his year.

He was about to ask if Hagrid was around when he felt a strange pulling sensation. He followed the source of the odd pulling to find a frightened and very naked Susan Bones scooting away from Hermione. Judging by the scathing look Hermione was shooting at Susan; Harry could easily understand Susan's fear.

Without warning, all of Harry's senses exploded. He could feel every individual stitch and thread of the bedspread he was laying on as if they were lengths of thick ropes. The minuscule paint strokes on the wall fifteen feet away looked like deep chasms and canyons. The smell of old, stale food, dust, and soot mixed with the three witches' scents; Daphne smelt of daisies, Hermione reminded Harry of strawberries, and Susan's fragrance was similar to sweetened coffee. But under each witch's initial scent, Harry could smell their fear and anger; more tantalizing were the scents of their womanhood: musky and sweet, yet unique to each girl. Hermione and Daphne had faint traces of each other's scent; it lingered in their hair and skin.

But Susan stood out from the other two witches. Her musky fragrance was significantly stronger than Hermione's or Daphne's. Furthermore, he could smell himself not _on_, but rather _in_ the witch. He could smell his ejaculate mingling with her wetness. Obviously, Susan had just recently had sex with Harry. Realizing just how attractive the red head was, even with fear etched to her face as she scooted away on the floor, Harry was honestly a little bitter that he hadn't been awake to enjoy the act.

It was the sound that overpowered him, though. The witches' heartbeats pounded in his ears like a dragon charging across the ground. Their breaths were as gale force winds to him.

His sense of smell and sound traveled beyond the boundaries of Hagrid's old hut and into the surrounding areas. The gentle breeze that flowed through the grass was a thunderstorm to Harry. The stink of the various beasts and their wastes in the Forbidden Forest burned his nose.

A series of scratching sounds drew Harry's attention. Somehow, he was able to block out the other stimuli that had overpowered him and inexplicably focused on the scratching coming from somewhere, far off inside the castle.

A bizarre clicking sound accompanied the scratching. A clicking noise that sounded like words to Harry.

_"Give it to me!" _something clicked, demandingly.

_"Mine! The food is mine!" _another source clicked._ "Get your own! It's mine!"_

Harry could hear a number of legs scurry across the floor followed by a scuffle.

_"IT'S MINE!"_

The two different voices clicked and screeched as they clashed. The sound of a hundred more spindly thin legs came scuttling from all over the castle to the sound of the fight. Harry was reminded of shiny black shells with long, hairy legs.

He forced his senses back to their normal state. The hut came into focus and Harry saw a worried expression on Hermione's face.

"Harry, what's wrong?" she asked. "You blanked out for a sec-"

"We have to leave right now," Harry interrupted, struggling to sit up. His weak arms trembled as he propped himself to a sitting position. "Acromantulas are in Hogwarts; hundreds of them."

Instead of panic seizing Hermione and the other two witches, they just looked at Harry with unmasked sorrow.

"You were gone for a long time Harry," Hermione said sadly. "A lot happened..."

Hermione spent the next few minutes telling Harry about the fall of Hogwarts, of how Voldemort had tricked the Ministry into leaving the school defenseless. With tears in her eyes, she described how the castle was torn and ripped apart by an army of Death Eaters, giants, and Acromantulas. She reassured Harry that they were safe in Hagrid's hut, thanks to Aragog's burial site.

"Everyone died: Hagrid, McGonagall, Neville, Luna... everyone," Hermione said with a hollow and empty voice. "I think it would've been safe to assume that I would've died too if I hadn't dropped out to look for you."

With what little strength Harry had, he lifted up his hand and placed it on Hermione's hand and squeezed it. She wrapped her fingers around his, returning the gesture. He was somewhat surprised that Hermione's terrible news had not shocked him. If someone were to have told this news to Harry before he had been kidnapped and tortured, he was certain that it would've floored him. But now, he feared that he had grown callous.

However, Harry was concerned that Hermione had not mentioned Ron, even in passing. He knew his friend didn't die during the attack; if he had, Hermione would have said something. It was as if Hermione had made an effort not to mention their red haired friend.

Hermione started to become concerned. The little color Harry had since waking up was slowly draining away. She turned to Daphne standing across the hut next to Susan, who had gotten dressed during Hermione's tale, and asked her to fetch a nutrient potion. The petite black haired witch retrieved a vial and brought it to Hermione.

"Here, drink this," Hermione requested, placing the vial to Harry's lips.

He recognized the potion by its taste; it was the same elixir he had been given every day while Bellatrix cut him up.

"Do people believe that Romilda Vane was one of the ones who died when Hogwarts was attacked?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I remember reading her name among the list of victims that the _Prophet_ printed," Hermione informed. "No remains were retrieved of any victim, however. No one dares go into Hogwarts now that the Acromantulas are nesting here, so it was assumed that everyone in the castle, students and teachers, had died."

"She didn't die there," Harry said flatly.

"What?" Daphne asked from the corner.

"How do you know that, Harry?" Hermione inquired.

"She and at least seven other young witches were brought back to Voldemort's castle," he answered. "They were used as sacrifices in a ritual."

Hermione, Daphne, and Susan's blood ran cold. The thought that Voldemort might have killed nearly two hundred people simply as a cover to the abduction of eight witches chilled them to their core. It was far too calculatingly cold for the three witches to comprehend.

Susan blanched even more than she already had. She imagined those poor girls being dragged away, begging for their lives while You Know Who laughed at them.

Daphne wanted very much to hold Hermione. She felt very cold and alone at that moment and needed her lover.

A thought occurred to Hermione; Harry had mentioned a ritual. She had already made an assumption that the runes carved into his flesh were part of a ritual. She asked; "Harry, do you know what kind of ritual Voldemort performed?"

"It was some sort of bonding. Voldemort said that I would be his willing servant and that I would rape and kill on his command. He had Bellatrix cut these into me," he said while gesturing weakly to the many scars covering his body. Harry wanted to continue; to describe that they had defiled him by forcing Romilda on him. But he couldn't bring himself to discus it aloud. "After they were done with the preparations, Voldemort had me placed in some sort of chamber with a pentagram drawn on the floor, with a bunch of runes surrounding it. He had me strung up and proceeded to kill each of the girls he brought from Hogwarts directly in front of me, splashing me with their… their blood. Then I went somewhere —somewhere very dark, like a void, almost."

As he spoke, his voice was even and showed no emotion. But inside, he felt as if he was on fire. He could hear those poor witches in his head, screaming in fear. The one who begged to be able to see her mother one last time made his stomach tighten into a painful knot.

Harry's eyes looked heavy, and Hermione was about to start yelling at Susan again. He had been making progress but she had to go and molest him, sending him right back into a coma. It had taken days for the healing potions to take effect, and thanks to her perverted desires, they were going to be back at square one. In all honesty, Hermione was surprised that Susan hadn't killed him with her actions. He was only able to move his hand a few inches before she raped him, indicating that he was still very weak...

Hermione slowly turned to Susan, and stared at her. Susan tried to back even further into the corner in order to hide from Hermione's gaze.

As she watched the fearful red head, ideas and thoughts popped into Hermione's mind. For days, the various healing potions they tried seemingly had no affect on Harry's condition. Then one day, he started improving out of the blue. It was a small change, but it was noticeable. Any improvement Harry gained should've been wiped away by Susan's molestation, if not making his condition worsen. And yet, Harry actually improved, and improved greatly. He had been molested; an act that should've drained any remaining strength completely. Yet he improved; so much that he regained consciousness.

"What did you do?" Hermione asked.

Susan trembled with fear and shame, but did not answer.

"The potions weren't working; not the way they're supposed to," Hermione stated. "Then one day, Harry started to get better. I thought the potions had finally started to work. But that's not what happened. Is it Susan?"

"What do you mean?" Daphne asked, perplexed by Hermione's train of thought.

"I think the potions have had no affect on Harry," Hermione speculated. "His condition improved a few days ago, and I think Susan did something shortly before this development happened."

Gulping, Susan nodded her head. Denying it would do her no good now.

"What the hell did you do?" Daphne asked the red head.

"I-I gave him... head," Susan admitted in a barely audible voice.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" Daphne demanded. "What drove you to give a comatose man a blow job?"

"I'm sorry! I was drunk and I wasn't in my right mind," Susan sobbed pitifully. "Carl dumped me and I felt like shit, okay?"

"So that gave you an excuse to suck off an unconscious man?" demanded Daphne.

Harry and Hermione eyed each other. He was wondering what she was getting at, whereas she was planning her next move.

"Susan, did you have any... _urges_," Hermione asked while still looking at Harry.

"Of course she did. She gave him head then shagged him!" Daphne answered for Susan hotly.

"Daphne, please, this is serious," Hermione said in a surprisingly calm voice and turned to Susan. "Did you have any urges when you were with Harry?"

Susan remained silent.

"Did you want to touch him? To feel his cock in your hands?" asked Hermione. Susan's eyes bulged as did Daphne's. Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend; he had never heard her use such crude language. Hermione herself hadn't realized that she had used such a crass term.

"Y-yes," Susan acknowledged.

"Daphne, did you have the same needs?" Hermione asked.

"No, of course not," she lied poorly with the memory of her dreams fresh in her mind.

"You're saying that you didn't want to feel him inside you?" Hermione asked as she felt a tingle in her nether region.

Harry felt something stir inside him. Something that felt akin to a caged animal, pacing back and forth in its cell, waiting impatiently to be fed.

Daphne fidgeted on the spot and said, "No, I didn't. I couldn't do that to you, Hermione."

"Are you sure?" Hermione challenged.

Daphne huffed and finally said, "They were just dreams. That's all."

"What are you getting at Hermione?" Harry asked.

"Each one of us felt an intense and growing attraction to you, Harry," she explained, "a strong physical need."

"Not that I'm flattered, but what's the point?" he questioned.

"No offence Harry, but right now, your appearance is not appealing," Hermione pointed out.

Harry looked down at his wasted frame, nodding his head. "I see what you mean."

"That, added to the fact you were so clearly sick, meant that we shouldn't have felt any physical attraction to you at all," Hermione concluded. Daphne stared at the brunette with her jaw open: Hermione had just admitted that she too had felt the same urges. "I believe you were doing something to make us feel this way," Hermione concluded.

"Hermione, I was unconscious. How could I have done that?" Harry asked.

"You didn't. At least not consciously, Harry," Hermione went on. "I think it has something to do with Voldemort's ritual. Some part of you has been calling out to us for some reason. Whether it's some magical force doing it, or some sort of pheromone, each of us feels a strong physical attraction to you. Susan, in her drunken state, must have succumbed to those urges."

"Sorry," the red head whimpered guiltily.

"Did those urges grow after you performed fellatio on him," Hermione asked Susan, almost dispassionately.

"Yes," Susan replied. "Before I did it, it would only affect me when I was actually near him. But after I did it, I felt a need no matter where I was. And it was intense, a lot stronger than before."

Once again, Hermione looked at Harry.

"Do me a favor, Susan: sit next to Harry," Hermione requested.

Slowly, Susan approached Harry. She sat on the very edge of the bed and looked to Hermione.

"No, sit closer," Hermione said. "So that you're almost touching Harry."

Susan smiled sheepishly to Harry. He smiled back, giving her permission. She edged her way to him.

A strange feeling developed in Harry. It felt as if he was becoming more alert and more awake the closer she got to him. It was subtle, but still noticeable.

"Do you two feel any different?" Hermione asked, watching them intently.

"Well, I don't feel as rotten as I did a minute ago. That may be because you're not yelling at me anymore," Susan said. "But I feel this warmth, right here," she said placing her hand on her belly. "And it's starting to spread, too."

"What about you, Harry?"

"I feel a little stronger, I guess," he said. "Just a little though."

"Anything else?"

"It may be my imagination, but I feel connected to her," Harry stated. "Like there's a string between the both of us."

Susan knitted her brow and said, "I kind of feel it too; now that you mention it."

"Could whatever You Know Who did to him be doing this?" Daphne asked Hermione.

"More than likely," Hermione said. "I'll need to do some research, to find out what ritual Voldemort performed on Harry. We need to know what happened to him."

"It's a shame we can't use Hogwarts' library," Susan said. "They'd probably have some book on it in the Restricted Section."

Hermione's eye glowed.

"Oh, no you don't," Harry said recognizing her look. "You are not going in there."

"What?" Daphne screeched at Hermione. "You're not going into the school. It's crawling with Acromantulas!"

"I have to," Hermione said firmly. "Susan's right; it is the most extensive library in England, probably Europe."

"But it's pointless! The library was probably destroyed. Burned to a crisp. There's nothing left!" Susan argued, regretting that Hermione took her off hand comment about the Restricted Section seriously.

"I don't think so. That wing of the castle is still standing," Hermione said, pointing through the window at the school. "There's a good chance the fire didn't reach there. Besides, we have no other choice."

"There is a choice," Harry rebutted. "We can get the books some other way."

"Any other source would draw attention to us, Harry," she retorted. "Most of the books on rituals, especially dark rituals, are regulated by the Ministry. If we try to purchase them, a flag goes up. We'd be brought in for questioning to make sure we're not dark arts users."

"All right, let's just Accio them," Daphne offered.

"That's not possible," the brunette stated. "According to_ 'Hogwarts; a History'_ the Founders placed permanent Anti-Summoning Wards all over the library. They didn't want students taking books without permission."

"But the Apparition wards have fallen," Susan argued. "So why would the library's wards be up still?"

"I guess it can't hurt to try," Hermione agreed. "_Accio Ritual books!_"

After waiting a moment, Hermione and Harry looked at each other.

"Well, I guess that means the wards are still up in the castle," Hermione stated.

"Or you have to be more specific in your summoning," Harry offered. "Actually summon the book by name."

"Doesn't matter," Hermione replied. "Either way, I'm going to have to go in and get the books."

"At least wait until I'm at full strength. That way I can go in there with you," Harry demanded.

"No, it has to be done now," Hermione said. "For all we know, whatever bonded to you from the ritual could be feeding off of Susan's life force through that string connection that you both feel."

Susan shot up from the bed and quickly put five feet between herself and Harry. The warmth in her belly subsided rapidly, while a growing part of her yearned to be near Harry again. But she was afraid of what Hermione was speculating.

"It has to be done, right now," Hermione stated unequivocally.

"Fine then, I'm going with you," Daphne said and stood bravely next to her lover.

"No, someone needs to stay with Harry," Hermione said. "He could relapse."

"So make Susan do it," Daphne shot back.

"We can't. Not until we know it's safe for her to be around Harry," Hermione said. She looked deep into Daphne's blue eyes and said. "Don't worry. I'll fetch the books while Susan will be on-guard protecting us."

"I don't like this, Hermione," Daphne said, her lip quivering.

"Neither do I," Harry said from his bed. "But Hermione's right. We have to find out what's happening before I hurt someone."

Not only was Harry worried over the notion of draining away Susan's life-force; he was concerned over the thought Voldemort had control over his actions. Harry was distressed that any moment the evil wizard would make Harry hurt people and he'd be forced to fulfill the bastard's wish.

**x**

**x**

For a few days, Draco thought he was the happiest wizard in the world. The Amortentia potion he force fed Pansy worked wonders. She doted on him, day and night. She fed him his meals, helped him shower, and was even an active and energetic participant in his Muggle Hunts. Pansy was so completely devoted to Draco because of the love potion, she would often hold down young Muggle girls while Draco savagely violated them. In more than one instance, Pansy held a girl's bottom apart and used her own spit to supply lubrication for Draco.

One night, Pansy had come up with the most wonderful Muggle torture Draco had ever heard of. She conjured dozens of metal screws of various lengths and girths. She then had enchanted the screws to hover all over the naked skin of the thirteen year old Muggle girl they abducted. As the magical screws slowly burrowed into the Muggle's flesh, muscle, and bone, Pansy had given Draco head. The Muggle's whimpers, cries, and screams mingled with Pansy's delicious slurping sounds. Draco alternated between looking down at Pansy's adoring, love-filled eyes and watching the screws pierce the Muggle and pin her to the wall. The Muggle let out one final blood curdling scream and Draco erupted.

This new connection with Pansy was enjoyable at first. But it quickly grew bothersome. Pansy followed Draco everywhere he went. She wouldn't leave him alone, even for one second. She was constantly touching him and had even tried to shove her hands into his pants during a meeting with a senior Death Eater. Pansy had gone so far as to insist she be allowed to wipe his arse after he relieved himself as a sign of her devotion.

He looked down at her contemptuously as she tried to work his flaccid organ. The witch wouldn't let him rest. She never ceased; even after making love several times in one day, she wanted more. If Draco could not perform, Pansy would become extremely depressed and agitated. She wouldn't accept he was not aroused simply because he was tired, but instead would take his inability as a sign that he no longer loved her. During these times, Pansy would wail and abuse herself: dragging her nails down her face and bare chest, causing angry red welts to form, while sobbing that she was worthless and ugly. The only way Draco found to calm his lover down was to submit to her attempts at love making where she would frantically try to stimulate him. He still loved her with all of his heart, but he had to do something to make her less of a nuisance.

For a moment, Draco considered giving Pansy the antidote for the Amortentia potion. That idea brought up another problem; once the effects of the love potion were lifted, she would be furious at him for what he had done. The memory of the pain and hurt in her eyes as he forced the Amortentia on her told him if he ever removed the effects, she would hate him forever. Draco couldn't live without Pansy. So he had to find another option; a potion that created the same adoration and loyalty as Amortentia, but wouldn't make her as dependent.

Draco's knowledge of love potions was woefully inadequate. He had always thought such potions were only for lovelorn witches and un-masculine to learn or even discuss. He couldn't go to Bellatrix and ask for help; his Aunt would mock and ridicule him mercilessly. And his mother was not an option. That left Draco only one person: Professor Snape.

But how could Draco go and visit his former Head of House? Pansy would surely follow. Draco knew from experience that Pansy would not willingly leave his side. The one time he ordered her to leave him alone, Pansy began sobbing frantically, stuttering nonsense that he had grown tired of her. Her anguish had turned to rage right before his eyes; she demanded to know if Draco had found another witch. She believed that would be the only reason Draco would leave her, even for a short amount of time; to go visit some whore who was trying to steal her wizard away from her. Pansy had brandished her wand and with rage burning in her eyes, demanded to know who the imagined slut was so that she could gut her. Draco had spent the next five hours trying to reassure Pansy.

Since Draco couldn't ask Pansy to leave him alone, nor could he simply slip her a sleeping draught, he considered Stunning her. But she would certainly retaliate when she woke up. He could imagine her fury, thinking that Draco had Stunned her in order to be with another witch. And he could not use the Imperius Curse on her. No, that curse was for Blood Traitors and filthy Muggles. To use it on Pansy, the witch he loved, was a foul thought that made him nauseous. It would be treating her like a dirty Muggle; he couldn't bring himself to even imagine it.

But he had to somehow distract Pansy long enough to seek guidance from Professor Snape. As Pansy continued to suckle on his limp organ with fervor, Draco pondered over his predicament.

**x**

**x**

The few remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix met in the Burrow.

"Isn't it too soon to vote for a new leader?" Molly asked apprehensively.

Earlier that day, Kingsley had received a package at his office in the Ministry containing Moody's primary wand, backup wand, and his magical eye. Even though no one had heard or seen Moody for days, many Order members still held on to the hope the old Auror was tracking down a particularly tough lead and couldn't contact anyone. However, the package carrying his wands and eye, items that Moody would never give up – even with his dying breath – was a clear message the Death Eaters had finally killed the legendary Dark Wizard Hunter.

"Unfortunately we can't mourn Moody's loss any longer, Molly," Remus answered. "The Order needs a leader."

"Oh, and you're saying that you'd be perfect for the job?" challenged Martha.

"Why wouldn't he be?" Arthur shot back. "Remus is clever and has experience."

"And because of his _condition_," Martha said patronizingly, "he'll be out of commission for days on end while he recovers from his transformation."

"I can still lead, despite my condition," Remus said confidently.

"All right then, let's put it to a vote," Martha declared. "All those opposed to Lupin being the new leader, raise you hand."

Martha threw her hand up, which was obvious. But the second hand that rose stunned Remus. Tonks looked down at her feet as she held her hand over her head.

"Tonks?" asked Remus in disbelief.

A soft buzz flowed through the members of the Order at the sight of Tonks voting against her own lover. The witches and wizards held hushed conversations amongst each other. Had Tonks voted against Remus because she knew something no one else did? Did she feel that his lycanthropy affected Remus more than he let on? With this doubt and speculation, another hand lifted up, followed by another, and another. Soon, over a dozen hands, a majority of the Order, were in the air.

Shocked by this turn of events, Remus took his seat. He hadn't expected a unanimous vote, but to have his own lover vote against him was what surprised and hurt the wizard. Added to this, he was certain that Tonks' vote had also swayed others into opposing him.

"Fine then, all in favor of Kingsley Shacklebolt; raise your hand," announced Martha.

**x**

**x**

Before they left the hut, the four discussed tactics to be used by Hermione and Susan during their trek to retrieve the needed research books. As a group, they had readily decided Apparition was out of the question. They had no idea what condition the Library was in; nor did they want to appear in the middle of a nest of Acromantulas. They were going to have to walk into the castle. Next came the question of what spells would be the most effective against the monstrous beasts. They reasoned Flame Throwing Hexes would work best against Acromatulas. Susan and Hermione would also transfigure objects they came across into animals to work as a distraction whenever possible. And obviously, they wouldn't be able to use Flame Hex while in the library. Hermione reasoned that any flames would spread through the ancient tomes like wildfire; destroying everything in its wake.

"You be careful," Daphne said to Hermione, with tears of fear and worry welling up in her eyes.

The brunette smiled at her lover before leading Susan out of the hut.

Looking in very direction with wide, frightened eyes, Susan commented, "I can't wait for this to be over and we're back in Hagrid's."

Hermione simply nodded her head. She didn't dare let herself speak for fear of showing just how terrified she was. Her wand was trembling so much in her hand, Hermione dreaded she wouldn't be able to aim a hex properly.

The two trudged through the tall grass as they slowly approached the castle. Every sound, even dried leaves crunching beneath their feet, elicited small, startled jumps out of the witches. To their fear filled minds, the shadows of every tree hid giant spiders ready to pounce.

When the pair was a hundred feet away from the protection granted by the hut, a screeching pierced their ears. Four Acromantulas, each the size of a large dog, came dashing from what was left of the school's entrance. The monsters raced across the field in a frenzy.

Pushing her fear aside, Hermione waved her wand, sending a jet of fire to the monsters. The flames shot through the air in a wide arch. The hex hit one of the spiders directly but only grazed two others. The flames engulfed the one spider in the blink of an eye. It collapsed to the ground screeching in pain. The other two Acromantulas stumbled when the flames licked their legs, but continued their charge.

Susan snapped her wand and sent a ball of flame rocketing at the fourth monster. The fireball tore through the spider's legs on its right side, burning them clean off. The monster fell to the ground and clawed impotently at the earth with its remaining legs.

As the shell of the first Acromantula exploded from the heat, the last two spiders lunged at Hermione and Susan. Both witches waved their wands and two streams of fire erupted from the tips. The fire seemed to wrap around the charging spiders like snakes coiling around its prey. The red and yellow flames danced along their shells, eyes and pincers. With a loud thud, both spiders fell to the ground.

As the flames turned the three Acromantulas into ash, Hermione walked up to the crippled monster who was screeching in agony. With another flick of her wand, flames enveloped the spider. In an act of mercy the beast would not have shown, Hermione ended the Acromantula's suffering.

Susan and Hermione each let out a shuttering and calming breath before heading to the castle once more.

Upon entering the school, Hermione did not wait for another attack. Instead, she began transfiguring objects all around her the moment she walked through the ruined doorway. She changed bits of stone and crumpled suits of armor into rabbits, fawns and dogs. The magically created animals bolted off in every direction. Two rabbits, a dog and three fawns raced down the corridor leading to the Library.

_"FOOD!" _a brutal voice cried out from somewhere in the shadows of the hall. A dozen Acromantulas leapt out of the darkness, charging after the small animals.

Hermione could hear Acromantulas scurrying after the conjured prey all over the castle. Hopefully, the distraction should have dealt with most of the spiders blocking their path to the Library. The monsters would be busy chasing after the fake animals instead of her and Susan.

Slowly and cautiously, the two witches made their way to the Library. Twice, the witches had to deal with Acromantulas who had not chased the decoy animals. Luckily, those spiders were extremely small; the size of Hermione's outstretched hand, and were dealt with easily.

Hermione peered around the door and looked into the Library. Giant spider webs clung to every surface, from the walls to the floor and the stacks to the ceiling. But Hermione saw no movement. She decided to see if any spiders were lying in wait; she transfigured a destroyed chair into a terrier. The small dog yipped in a frightened way before running into the maze of webs. A startled bark from the dog and a twang of one of the spider-webs told Hermione that the panicked terrier had become tangled in the trap. Hermione knew from her science classes back in primary school, that a spider would quickly come and claim its prey if it any had been anywhere near the web. She waited for a full minute while the dog whimpered and howled, but no Acromantula came. Satisfied there were no monsters in the room, Hermione led Susan into the Library.

"You keep an eye out," she told Susan. "I'll head into the Restricted Section. If the Library has anything on the ritual performed on Harry, it'd be in there."

Susan nodded and turned so that she was facing the door. Hermione made her way to the back of the Library. Using a simple cutting charm, she sliced away any web that blocked her route.

**x**

**x**

Back in Hagrid's hut, Daphne was almost on the verge of panicking. Hermione and Susan had disappeared into the castle nearly a half hour previously. When she had seen the four Acromatulas charge at Hermione and Susan, Daphne almost ran out of the hut, ready to shout hexes to save her lover and her friend. Thankfully, the two witches had dispatched the monsters quickly. But Hermione and Susan's swift action did little to alleviate Daphne's dread. She wrung her hands with her eyes fixed on the school.

From his bed, Harry watched the dark haired witch. Somehow, he could smell Daphne's fear and concern, like an odor that hung in the air. He, too, was worried about Hermione and Susan, but in his weakened state there was nothing he could do.

Not wanting to focus on the worry that ate away at him, Harry forced his mind to another subject. "Have you known Hermione a while?" he asked Daphne.

"Yeah, a few months," she replied distractedly, her eyes and attention still firmly on the castle. It was clear she didn't want to be distracted from her vigil.

Under her fear, Harry caught the aroma of Hermione on Daphne again. He was still curious as to why his friend's scent lingered on Daphne. He also recalled how Daphne's scent was on Hermione's body, but neither one had Susan's scent on them. It seemed as if Hermione and Daphne must have spent a great amount of time together. Somehow Harry instinctively knew it wasn't just that Hermione and Daphne spent time with each other. The lingering combined scents meant something far more intimate than that. In fact, if he concentrated, Harry could smell a strong source of Hermione's aroma coming from in between Daphne's legs.

This puzzled Harry. The last he knew, Hermione and Ron were a couple. Hermione should have had Ron's scent on her. But there was no masculine scent anywhere on Hermione besides Harry's. Harry knew this meant she had not been in any close contact with a male for quite some time. This information, combined with the fact Hermione had not mentioned Ron even in passing, told Harry that Ron was out of the picture, so to speak. And Harry wanted to know why.

"Is Ron upset that you and Hermione are lovers?"

Daphne's attention snapped away from the window to Harry.

"_Wha_... How?" she stammered in surprise. She didn't think her affection for Hermione was that obvious, nor was Hermione's for her.

"I can smell her on you," Harry pointed out. He felt a stirring, deep inside. It was a desire to see Daphne kiss Hermione passionately. The desire wanted this and more; it wanted to have Harry watch while the two witches made love. Pushing the need aside, Harry repeated; "Is Ron upset?"

Daphne mulled over her answer; should she be the one to tell Harry the truth? She wasn't certain whether or not Hermione ever wanted Harry to be told.

"Ron's a brash, impatient prat," Harry stated. "Did he do something to make Hermione mad? Is that why she's with you?"

Daphne gave a bitter chuckle and answered, "That's one way of putting it."

"What did he do?" demanded Harry.

"I can't tell you that," she said with a mixture of anger and sorrow.

"Can't or won't?"

"Won't," she clarified. She came to realize it was Hermione's choice whether or not to tell Harry about the rape.

Harry felt anger begin to rise up in him, not only at Daphne for refusing to tell him what had happened, but at Ron as well. Ron had always been an impulsive dolt who often did and said things that weren't appropriate or even smart. But Hermione had never let these things upset her for too long; she always found a way or reason to forgive Ron. But Ron must have done something while Harry was in that dark place to cause Hermione to sever all ties with him. Had Ron said something foul? Harry doubted that was the case; Hermione would've been mad at him, but not so angry that she wouldn't have mentioned him. No, Harry realized that Ron must have done something more than make a rude or stupid comment. He had to have hurt Hermione deeply; so deeply that she did not speak of him.

Daphne could almost feel his anger, it poured off of him. She knew the conversation and her lack of offering any information disturbed him. She also knew Hermione would be angry as well if Harry was in a state when she returned. So Daphne decided to change the topic, to take Harry's mind away from what Ron had done.

"She loves you, you know," she said. A knot formed in her belly as she spoke. Daphne had known her girlfriend was in love with Harry, but as long as he had been missing, Hermione's feelings for him had been a distant worry. Now he was here in the flesh, and Daphne was worried that she was going to lose Hermione to him.

"Yeah, we've been friends for years," Harry said.

She let out a bark-like laugh. "I'm not talking about a love between friends; one where she'd sneak into your room late at night to tell you about a dream she had or to help you with your homework. I'm talking about a love where she'd sneak into your room to shag you, where she'd call out your name as she came."

"I think you're mistaken."

"I think not," Daphne shot back. "She's madly in love with you, even if she won't admit it to herself." Great, fat tears fell from her eyes. As she looked into his bright eyes, Daphne could hardly blame Hermione for wanting him. "And now that you're here... I'm... I'm afraid I'm going to lose her... She'll leave me for you."

"Does she love you?" he asked after he contemplated what Daphne had said.

"Yes... I think so," she said and added pathetically; "I hope she does."

"Then she won't leave you," Harry said in a matter of fact manner.

"Oh, I doubt that," Daphne said and wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm certain that if you even gave her the time of day, she'd forget all about me."

"Then you don't know Hermione as well as you think," Harry said. "She would never hurt someone she cared about."

With her lip quivering, Daphne hoped Harry was right. Hermione had come to mean the world to Daphne since they had been together. What had started out as a simple act of compassion had blossomed into love. She continued to cry; she couldn't assure herself that Hermione wouldn't abandon her for Harry. Daphne was positive Hermione loved her, but she was just as certain that the brunette loved Harry more.

"They're coming back," Harry sated. He could hear the footsteps approach the distant remains of the entrance to the castle.

Daphne threw the door open and rushed out.

**x**

**x**

By the time Hermione had come out of the Restricted Section levitating several tall stacks of books behind her, Susan was more than happy to leave the castle. The sooner they got out of the Acromantula infested place the better as far as she was concerned. The pair had tried to Apparate back to the hut, but couldn't.

"I guess that the wards in the castle itself are still active," Hermione surmised.

"_Oh,_ _joy_," Susan replied with sarcasm and fright.

Making their way to the entrance, the pair did not see any sign of the giant spiders but they could hear them. The monsters crawled about on the floors above them; the scraping noises of their legs echoing through the corridor sent cold shivers down the witches' spines.

They trotted out of the castle and down the knoll toward the safety of the hut. Hermione saw Daphne walk out and stand just outside of the doorway. Even from this distance, Hermione could tell her lover was in tears.

Daphne was muttering fearfully under her breath at Hermione and Susan; _"Move! Move! Don't fucking walk, run like hell! Get out of there!"_ To her, the two witches' trot was an agonizingly slow crawl

When Hermione and Susan were a little over a hundred yards from the hut, a dozen massive Acromantulas, each the size of ponies or larger, poured out of the entrance to the castle.

"RUN!" Daphne screamed in horror at the top of her lungs.

The two witches didn't bother to turn around to see what caused Daphne such terror. Instead, they turned their steady trot into a full sprint.

Despite their increased speed, Daphne was positive the Acromantulas would overtake the two. Pulling out her wand, Daphne took aim at the pack of spiders, carefully making sure she pointed her weapon over Hermione and Susan's heads. As rapidly as she could, Daphne began shouting Blasting Hexes, one after the other. Most of the hexes fired wide, missing the targets by ten feet or more. One blast, even though it missed, blew the ground in front of the Acromantulas into chunks, creating a large crater. This slowed the spiders' charge only slightly, but any delay was welcomed by Daphne.

Susan considered turning around to cast a hex at the monsters behind her. But the frantic pace at which Daphne was firing Blasting Hexes told Susan that pausing even for just a second would be fatal.

Finally, one of Daphne's hexes hit its mark. One Acromantula's head exploded in a shower of fractured shell and gore. The monster took another three steps, as if its body had not realized that it was dead, before tumbling to the ground and rolling a dozen feet where it finally stopped. Two spiders that were behind the fallen monster did not slow their pace. They trampled over the destroyed corpse like it was a piece of trash.

Hermione and Susan were only a few feet away from the hut. They could feel the Acromantulas right on their heels. Daphne continued to launch a bevy of hexes over the two witches' heads. Hermione ignored the painful stitch forming in her side and pushed herself even harder. She stretched out her hand, wound it around Daphne's free arm and tugged at her as she and Susan sprinted by. Daphne was able to fire off one more hex before her lover dragged her into the hut.

The Acromantulas screamed in defeat as the three witches ran full tilt to Harry's bed. As a group, the three leapt onto the bed and formed a circle around Harry and pointed their wands in the direction of the door, ready to defend themselves. Even though they were positive Hermione was right about Aragog's body acting as a repellent, they dare not take any chances.

The pack of monster scurried around the perimeter a few feet away from the hut, as if trying to find a way in. They screamed and snapped their mandibles angrily at the people in the hut.

Hermione, Daphne, and Susan huddled around Harry. He placed his arms around Susan and Daphne, to show them support, while Hermione leaned against his bare belly. But each witch knew in their hearts they did not surround Harry solely to protect the weakened and unarmed wizard, but to draw upon his courage. Hermione knew for a fact Harry was the bravest person she had ever known, and through her stories about him, Susan and Daphne felt the same.

After what felt like an hour, the Acromantulas finally gave up trying to find a way to get inside the hut. Clicking in bitter defeat, the monsters slowly retreated back to their nests in the castle.

Even after the spiders had disappeared from view, the three witches still leaned into Harry. At first there was something comforting being so close to him for the witches. But slowly, that comfort grew into a desire to be near him. Both Hermione and Daphne felt the warmth of his body pressing against theirs. And they wanted more, each felt a need to strip down to their bare skin so that they could feel his heat against their flesh without their clothes obstructing the sensation. This reaction was even more intense in Susan; she wanted to push Harry back on the bed and mount him, regardless of the fact Hermione and Daphne were there.

The situation reminded Harry of the more vivid visions from his time in the void. He couldn't help but notice the similarities between those tempting images and the witches huddled on his body. A compulsion overcame Harry; he took in a deep breath through his nose so that he could take in the three witches' scents; their hair, skin, and most invigorating, their sex. Harry clutched the witches closer to him, not out of fear, but he too had a strong desire. He found himself wanting to push them down on the bed and pull off their clothes, one-by-one. The thought of seeing the three witches lying naked before him only made his desire increase. The strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, the thing that reminded him of a hungry, caged animal grew. And as the sensation increased, Harry felt his loins stir.

Hermione, pressed up against Harry's front, felt his organ begin to swell. It was pushing against the small of her back like a hard rod. She did not feel discomfited in the slightest, which surprised her. She rationalized this lack of embarrassment by telling herself it was only natural for Harry to have an erection; he had adrenaline coursing through his body because of the threat of the Acromantulas, and he had three women leaning into him. But what she couldn't rationalize was her own alien _want_. She wanted to turn around and take hold of his manhood; she wanted to feel his weight and heat as he grew and swelled in her palm.

"I don't think they'll be back," Harry said softly. He knew he had to put some distance between himself and the witches. If he did not, he would not be able to resist temptation; he would succumb to his raging desires. "Maybe we should start researching."

"Yeah, you're right," Daphne said and slowly removed herself from Harry. It felt odd to do so; to leave Harry felt wrong in some dark place of her heart. This sensation set Daphne on edge. She walked to the door where the pile of books ended up and knelt down, bending at the knees, to pick up a book up at random.

Susan nodded and went to the door after Daphne sat by the fireplace. She bent over at the hips, and picked up a book, not realizing that she was presenting her voluptuous bottom to both Harry and Hermione. A strong tingle sprang up in her sex; it was an itch that wanted Susan to impale herself on Harry right there and then. Blushing wildly, Susan ignored her desire and sat on one of the large, lumpy chairs.

The sight of Susan's curvy bum made Harry's heart race. It was such a pretty thing. But he noticed something peculiar as he viewed her bottom; Harry had a strange sensation when it came to Susan. It was difficult to explain, even to himself. But it felt as if a part of him owned Susan. As if on some primal level, she _belonged_ to him.

When Susan bent over, Hermione felt Harry's cock jump, jabbing the small of her back. She shivered as she realized that she no longer wanted to merely hold his manhood just to feel the heat and weight of it. She almost desperately wanted to help guide his meat into Susan. Her face heated up as she imagined the strange large lumps on his rod pushing passed Susan's labia. Leaning against his front, Hermione had an urge to reposition herself. To move up and straddle his lap, so she could feel his big rod pressing on her bum. Hermione repressed a shudder and stood; she needed to get away. Not looking back, Hermione went to retrieve a book. Instead of bending at the knees to lower herself, Hermione followed a wicked thought that entered her mind and made a decision to bend at the waist, to sick out her bottom, much like Susan had. A tingle went up her spine as she wondered if Harry's cock jumped at the sight of her bum like it had with Susan's.

Hermione shot up, clutching the book to her chest. Her face was on fire, not with arousal this time, but with shame. Scolding herself for such nasty thoughts, Hermione started to make her way to one of the chairs.

She stopped short, realizing that Harry didn't have a book. Even if he could walk, which Hermione knew he was too weak to do, he would expose his manhood. The knot that was forming in her belly told Hermione that it would be a bad thing to see his organ; she would lose any sort of composure she had. So, Hermione picked up another book, this time bending at her knees properly, and walked back to the bed. Intent on not looking at the bulge in the sheets, Hermione kept her eyes fixed on Harry's as she approached him; she did not want to tempt herself. However, this act did not save her from impure thoughts. As she handed Harry a book entitled_ "Demons and Monsters; Beasts of the Underworld"_,she looked deeply into his brilliant green eyes and found herself wanting to see them dark and heavy with lust. She wanted to see how those lovely eyes would look after he was satisfied. Gulping, she handed Harry the book and walked to an empty chair.

"Remember, we're looking for a ritual where the host is ritualistically scarred and eight witches are sacrificed," Hermione said in an even tone. She spoke more to herself, to remind herself what she needed to do rather than dwell on perverted thoughts of her friend, than to anyone else. "It's probably safe to assume the witches were virgins, since we're talking about a dark ritual" Hermione said aloud, she added. The brunette witch paused when she saw Harry's face suddenly become dark and anger passed through his eyes. Resolving to ask what had bothered Harry later, Hermione forged ahead. "And since Voldemort referred to Harry as a_ 'servant'_ it's safe to assume we're looking for a demon or a monster that can hide in the host's body." Hermione paused, realizing there was at least one other possible aspect to the ritual. "Harry, could you tell us about those odd lumps on your… penis? We scanned them earlier and found that they must be magical in origin."

"They were some sort of half spheres," Harry said. It was bizarre he wasn't ashamed about describing his member. Before he was kidnapped, he would've mortified about any conversation concerning his penis. "I didn't get a good look at them. Bellatrix cut me open and placed them under my skin."

"That means we're looking fro a ritual that includes eight virgins, scarring, and some foreign objects inserted in his cock_... I mean_ _penis_," Hermione blurted out. This time, she caught her slip of the tongue, and she was humiliated by it.

A shiver passed over Hermione as she accidentally said the foul word describing Harry's organ. She could feel herself become hot at the thought of those enticing spheres. Her previous resolve not to think of her friend in a sexual manner failed in a spectacular way as she imagined herself kneeling in front of Harry with Daphne at her side. The brunette witch wanted to take hold of Harry's rod by the base and work it in her mouth until it was dripping with her spit. Hermione then imagined playfully slapping Daphne in the face with the heavy weight of Harry's meat. Hermione's sex itched and burned as an image of her wanking Harry off on Daphne's face entered her mind. She would milk him, squeezing every last drop out of him onto Daphne's face. Hermione bit her lip hard in an attempt to drive the nasty thoughts away and sat on a couch a good distance from Harry and temptation.

Susan yearned as she remembered the bumps massaging her inner-walls. The way each one would feel as it pushed passed her labia and brush up against her swollen clitoris. The red head desperately fought the burning urge to rub her cunny through her knickers for some relief.

A blush developed around Daphne's lower belly and rapidly spread up her chest to her face. Her flesh burned as she had involuntarily imagined Harry's organ, caused by Hermione's crude word. The way it stood tall under the sheets seemed as if it was etched in her mind. A strange, irresistible impulse came to the lithe witch. She was suddenly very curious to find what those large bumps would feel like in her hand as she massaged his cock. When he came, would she be able to feel his seed shoot through his rod before it launched from his crown? And how much would he cum. And what would it taste like? Daphne's nipples hardened painfully under her blouse.

He could smell their arousal; their musky dampness, each of their individual fragrances filled his nose. Harry wanted to spread each witch's legs apart and taste them, to discover if they tasted as good as they smelled.

Pushing the fantasy aside, Harry opened the book. He could indulge himself after he found out if he was a threat or not.

**x**

**x**

"Hey, who the hell are you blokes?" the Muggle with the hard hat demanded. "Let's see your badges."

Johan Blaor had no time to waste on this man. He waved his wand and Obliviated the Muggle.

"Let's get this started," Blaor ordered. His two assistants nodded curtly and levitated the fifty gallon barrel into the factory-like building.

As they traveled the winding corridors, every so often a Muggle would cross their path and were quickly Obliviated. This was their first stop, with dozens more to go; Blaor could not twiddle away precious time dealing with the bothersome Muggles.

Blaor smiled as he watched his assistants pour his potion into the reservoir in the Muggle Water Treatment Plant. Soon, the wizarding world would no longer have to hide in fear from the Muggles.

**x**

**x**

After Kingsley Shacklebolt was elected the new leader of the Order of the Phoenix with a fourteen to eleven count, the witches and wizards discussed approaching a young Wizengamot member, Lionel Wagner-Frost, who had Pro-Muggle leanings and asking him to join the Order. They came to the conclusion Kingsley, as the new leader, should contact Wagner-Frost and invite him into the Order. Having a Wizengamot member in the Order would be very beneficial.

When the meeting was closed, Remus led Tonks out of the Burrow. She followed him, dragging her feet through the grass as he made his way to the woods.

Once safely out of earshot of anyone in the Weasley home, Remus demanded "What the hell were you thinking?"

Tonks, with a sad frown on her lips, answered "I was thinking I didn't want you to die."

"What? Just because I could've been the new leader doesn't mean I would've died!"

"Doesn't it?" she shot back. There was heat and sorrow to her voice as she challenged him. "Look at Dumbledore. Look at Moody! They were both leaders and the both died!"

"Tonks, that doesn't mean I'd-" he began.

"Yes it does! The moment you would've become leader, you would've become a prime target for the Death Eaters," she snapped. This was only a half truth. Tonks knew the Death Eaters would go after Remus more if he were the head of the Order, but she also knew they would use her to get to him and she couldn't bear that thought.

"Tonks, we're in the middle of a war. Any one of us could die," Remus argued. "I would've made a good leader!"

"And Kingsley wouldn't?" she asked angrily. The tone of the conversation had quickly turned bitter and it only added to her pain so she lashed out.

"What the hell is your problem?" he demanded. "Something has been bothering you for days."

"I've told you; it's my job and the war," Tonks replied and turned her back on Remus.

"There's something else," Remus said. "I know there is."

"Well, you're wrong then, aren't you? Because there is nothing else bothering me."

"Tonks... _Dora_, please talk to me," pleaded Remus. "I want to help you."

She choked back a sob, the phrase Remus had used reminded her of Moody's last words where he said that she should come to him for help. Forcing back the guilt, Tonks said to Remus "I have to go do something for work." And without another word, she Apparated away.

**x**

**x**

Harry, Hermione, Daphne, and Susan read in silence. Each one trying to concentrate on the text they read. But every so often, each one's mind wandered from the tomes.

Daphne kept stealing glances at Harry and then Hermione. She wondered if Hermione was continuing to have the same urges she had; to have Harry grab a fistful of her hair at the back of her head and crush his lips into hers. She felt the need to grind her hips against Harry, to brush her groin against his manhood.

Susan wanted to abandon her book and crawl into bed with Harry. She knew that if she were to have sex with him it would be even better this time; she would be able to feel his hands on her, caressing her as she rode him.

After she tossed the book aside in favor of another one, an odd thought occurred to Hermione; if she gave Harry and hand-job, would she wipe the semen from her hand to remove the mess like she had done with Ron? Or would she raise her hand to her nose to take in Harry's scent? And then would her tongue dart out to taste it?

The pressure was still there as he turned another page. Harry's erection was begging for release. The thing inside of him felt as if it was demanding to take Hermione, Daphne, or Susan, if not all of them, in order to gain that relief.

A heavy air of discomfort hung about the hut as the four continued to read. After nearly an hour and a dozen different books, the task started to seem hopeless. Twice Susan thought she had found the ritual, but the first had referenced only the scars but not sacrifices. The second needed only one virgin sacrifice. Daphne and Harry had worse luck in their searches. The books they had read had no similarities whatsoever to what Harry had described.

But then Hermione came across a ritual in_ "Defense against Demons: How to Combat the Forces of Darkness: by Octavian Merrifellow." _It was very similar to what Harry said he had gone through; the host was scarified, also, several rune-stones were imbedded into his penis, and eight virgins were sacrificed. Unfortunately, unlike Harry's ritual, all eight virgins were not used in the same manner; only seven were to be sacrificed to call forth the demon. It was not necessary to murder one of the virgins; this one was used instead to_ "defile" _the host's body. Hermione was about to discount this ritual since it did not match Harry's description exactly. But then the word _"defile"_ struck a cord in her. Slowly, she looked at Harry. With pain in her voice she asked something that she needed to know, but was afraid to ask.

"Harry, did they use one of the virgins to rape you?"

Pain and anger appeared on Harry's face. Hermione's heart broke at the sight of his anguish.

"Romilda Vane," Harry said sadly. "They made sure I knew who she was. I was given a potion that made me..." he couldn't bring himself to talk about it further. There weren't any words to describe how angry, dirty, and foul he felt over what happened to Romilda.

"They forced her on you?" Hermione asked. She hated to ask; it hurt Harry so, but she needed to be certain. Harry nodded his head.

Now she knew why his face had gone dark when she had speculated the witches were virgins. Harry had known for a fact that at least one, Romilda, was a virgin. Hermione was torn between pulling Harry in a hug to comfort him and crawling into the corner to sob. Had Harry felt like she had after her own rape? Did he feel the same sorrow and rage as she had? She looked up and saw that both Susan and Daphne were looking directly at her. Clearly, they were wondering if this revelation hurt her. The brunette witch couldn't bear these looks. She turned back to the book, blocking out the two witches' stares and she read aloud.

"It's called the Pryapux Demon," Hermione announced. "_'... The Pryapux Demon is called to this plane to possess a body that has been prepared for it. The host, which must be a wizard, has specific runes and other symbols carved into his flesh. In addition, rune-stones, created in an exacting manner, are placed in the host's manhood. The potential host is then defiled by one virgin. He is then bathed in the blood of seven more virgins. _

'_The Pryapux Demon is a frightening monster that, when dormant, looks like an average wizard. In fact, it looks like the wizard who body hosts the demon. In order for the Pryapux Demon to survive on this plane, it must possess a wizard.'"_

"So that means Harry's going to turn into some kind of beast?" Daphne asked.

"I would assume so," Hermione answered and continued to read. "_'This demon gains sustenance through its concubines; witches the demon has bonded with. It is believed that the Pryapux Demon somehow lures the witches, perhaps even ensnaring them through unknown magics.'_

"That would explain why we all felt a strong physical attraction to you, Harry, either through magic or pheromones as I suspected. You've been unconsciously calling to us," Hermione commented before continuing reading aloud. "_'It bonds with witches by bedding them. Witches feel a strong attraction —some say a lustful one —to the demon.'"_

"So I'm bonded with him," Susan asked. "Does it say anything about what will happen to me? Or how he feeds off of me?"

"Not yet," Hermione replied. "Let's see…, ah here: _'One former concubine of a Pryapux Demon, Lilith Jameston (1399 -1487) denied the Pryapux Demon used magic to ensnare its concubines. She stated she was engaged to a Phillip Marsters before he had been bonded to the Pryapux Demon. Mistress Jameston went on to state when she met the demon in the guise of her former fiancé, the attraction she had for him previously was only heightened; that she was by no means ensnared or bewitched. But Miss Jameson is the only recorded witch to ever speak of her dealings with a Pryapux Demon._

"_'In its human guise, the demon acts naturally. Many witnesses have described the wizards as being kind and compassionate; a far cry from their actions in the demon's true form. It is easy for one to spot a Pryapux Demon in human form due to the numerous runes and symbols carved into its flesh. _

_"'The demon is compelled to do its master's bidding. The dark wizard Crysilix (1086-1172) instructed his Pryapux Demon (who had possessed the body of an unknown wizard) to remove an entire village from the face of the earth. The demon was so efficient that after it killed every man, woman, and child (and reportedly violating a number of them in the process) it carried their corpses as well as the remains of the buildings to a nearby river and tossed them in. This was a time consuming process, a full two weeks, but the demon had carried its master's orders to the letter. The demon removed any trace of the village from the face of the earth.'"_

Harry's shoulders slumped. He feared at any moment Voldemort would order him to rape and kill, and there was nothing Harry could do to stop himself from following the villain's command.

"If I lose control and change, kill me," Harry told the witches. "I don't want Voldemort to make me hurt anyone."

"I don't think we could do that, Harry," Daphne said.

"Yeah, I couldn't bring myself to kill you," added Susan.

"I think the point is moot, regardless," Hermione interjected. She read; "_'The Pryapux Demon is extremely difficult to kill. In 1341, it took fourteen wizards an estimated thirty Killing Curses to make the demon fall. A lucky, but misaimed Blasting Hex caused the Pryapux Demon to lose its footing and it fell into an active volcano (1518).'_

"So obviously if we did want to kill you, which we don't, we wouldn't be able to," Hermione stated.

Harry was about to order the witches to get away from him, to run for safety, when Hermione continued to read aloud, effectively cutting off any argument.

_"'However, the Pryapux Demon can be weakened to the point that one Killing Curse could vanquish it. Duke Archibald of Hogsmeade was able to separate the Pryapux Demon from its concubines, its sole source of sustenance, in 908 AD. Over the next fortnight, the Pryapux Demon had been weakened so much that it couldn't move, enabling Duke Archibald to smite it with one blow.'"_

"Then kill me now," Harry ordered. "I'm weak right now."

"Harry, be quiet!" Hermione snapped. "You are my best friend. I will not kill you! I would rather die!"

"Hermione..." he began.

"No, Harry, you mean too damn much to me," she had tears in her eyes. "I will do my best to save you. Maybe I can find something to reverse what happened to you. But I will not kill you. Not now, not ever! With my dying breath, I would try to save you!"

"But..."

"It's what you'd do, Harry," the brunette interrupted him once more. "Even if I was about to hurt you, you'd die trying to help me. Nothing in this world could make me kill you. Not even to save myself!"

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Hermione turned back to the book and announced; "Here's the segment about the witches that the demon binds with, Susan.

_"'The Demon's Concubines," _Hermione read._ "The demon doesn't gain sustenance through food or wine, but rather through physical contact with its concubines. The process through which the demon bonds with its concubine is rather crude. This author is loathed to write the following blunt statement, but there is no other way around it; the demon must bed a witch in order to turn her into his concubine and be able feed from her. The demon's seed creates a magical bond between itself and the unfortunate witch.'"_

Susan leaned toward Hermione, listening intently.

_"'The actual manner in which the demon feeds is actually fairly interesting. The demon absorbs the concubine's excess and discharged magics. The natural process of energy flowing off of a magical person's body is all it takes to feed this horrible demon.'"_

"So it's not harmful to me?" Susan asked for clarification. "I'm not going to die?"

"No, all magical folk give off excess magical energy," Hermione explained. "It's similar to how when humans exhale, we expel carbon dioxide."

"So it's okay for me to be around Harry?" the red head asked.

"Actually, it's beneficial," stated Hermione. "_'The concubine is reported to feel a mild sense of euphoria in the demon's presence. Also, the witch supposedly gains a slight boost in her powers. It is not a significant gain, but noticeable none the less_

_"'As to its optimal feeding, the unspeakable demon receives the majority of its sustenance and power from its concubine during acts of copulation.'"_

"So Harry now feeds off of energy and sex?" Susan asked.

"Susan!" Daphne scolded. "Is that all you think about?"

"I'm just asking!" the red head defended.

"Yes, it would seem so," Hermione answered clinically. She, too, was upset over Susan's comment about sex. But she herself didn't know whether her displeasure came from anger over the thought of Susan molesting Harry, or if she was jealous of the fact Susan had Harry in her. Hermione decided she would deal with the reason for her vexation later.

_"'The demon can sustain its existence with just one concubine. It would remain weak and underpowered, but can live with only one source of sustenance. With only one witch bonded, the demon will weaken easily. For the monster to truly develop and thrive, it simply needs more sources. That is why for the optimal results, the demon's master would have a harem waiting for its return. The more concubines the demon has, the faster it can grow to its full strength."_

"What does it mean_ 'can sustain its existence'_?" Daphne asked.

"Well, I believe it means that Harry can grow strong enough to walk around with just Susan as his concubine," speculated Hermione. "But to reach his full potential in magic and physical power, he would need more witches."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Harry said. "I think it's best to leave me weak, until we find a way to reverse this. If Voldemort finds me and commands me to kill, and if I'm weak like I am now, I won't have enough strength to follow his orders. If what the book says is true, I won't be much of a threat with just one… well with just Susan."

Hermione nodded her head in agreement. She didn't like seeing Harry so weak and sickly, but he was right. It would be for the best.

She continued to read the book, and her eyes bulged.

"We have a problem," she announced. "_'Although it is not proven, it seems that its master can command the Pryapux Demon from great distances. Arnok the Destroyer, (78 BC – 62 AD) was reportedly captured by his enemies and transported great distances over land and sea to a hidden location. The dark wizard wasn't allowed to contact any of his followers, yet somehow, he was able to summon the Pryapux Demon to rescue him._

_"'There is additional strong evidence that the master and demon communicate with their minds. Sulla Miles (c.840-939) had his tongue cut out and hands severed by one of his enemies after he had summoned the Pryapux Demon but was still able to command the demon through some other means.'"_

"Oh, bugger," Daphne muttered.

"What does that mean what I think it means?" Susan asked with fear. "You Know Who can control Harry through telepathy?"

Hermione knitted her brow. "But that doesn't make sense. Harry, you haven't mentioned anything about someone commanding you."

"I haven't," he replied. "I felt Voldemort calling to me when I was in that dark place, telling me to return to the chamber where he performed the ritual. But since then, I haven't heard or felt anything at all."

"Well, it's clear he's looking for you," Hermione said. "There are Death Eaters stationed at St. Mungo's. And your relatives were attacked."

"What?" Harry asked, surprised by Hermione's comment.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you," Hermione said pitifully. She hated being the bearer of such terrible news, especially added to everything else that Harry had just heard. "Your aunt, uncle, and cousin were murdered. Most likely by Death Eaters on Voldemort's orders."

Harry remained silent. His first instinct was to say it was unfortunate; that he wanted to be the one to end their lives. He thought about it so much in that void that he felt cheated now someone else had killed them.

"So, You Know Who is obviously looking for Harry," Susan echoed. "Why doesn't he just call to Harry then? I mean, if the master and demon can communicate with their minds or whatever, You-Know-Who should just order the demon to tell him its location, right?"

Hermione did not answer. She was bothered by Harry's reaction to the news of his relatives' deaths. She knew he did not like them; in fact, she wouldn't have been surprised if he wasn't upset over their deaths. But his being upset wasn't what was bothering her. Under Harry's cool expression, she recognized dissatisfaction and disappointment. They were odd emotions that did not seem to fit such horrible news.

"Hermione," Daphne spoke. "Why doesn't You Know Who just call to Harry?"

"I don't know," Hermione finally answered. "Maybe there's something in the book," she said turning back to the tome.

She glanced over sections that detailed even more horrific deeds performed by Pryapux Demons throughout history until she found the section she was looking for; the chapter pertaining to the master.

_"'The master of the Pryapux Demon lays his claim on the beast with his own blood. After the host has been defiled and the seven virgins are sacrificed, the potential master cuts open his own hand and places it on the host. Not only does this blood sacrifice bond the master to the demon but it designed to strip away the last remaining fragment of the host's will, replacing it with the master's will. This act determines who the master is and allows him (or, rarely, her) to control the will of the Pryapux Demon.'_

"Can it be?" Hermione asked herself.

"Can what be?" Susan asked.

"Voldemort used his blood to bond with the demon," Hermione stated with a look of deep thought on her face.

"Yeah, that's what you just read," Daphne said.

"Hermione, what are you thinking?" asked Harry.

"Harry, he used his blood to determine who the master of the demon is," Hermione said as if it were clear as day.

"How the hell is this helping?" Susan demanded. "We already know You Know Who used his blood."

"Oh," Harry muttered in comprehension.

"Don't you start," Daphne snapped at Harry.

"You don't understand," Hermione said to the two witches.

"Of course we don't," Susan said. "Because you're speaking in code that only Harry seems to understand."

"Voldemort used my blood to resurrect himself in our fourth year," Harry explained.

"So?" asked Daphne, clearly not satisfied with Harry's explanation. "I remember reading your story in the Quibbler."

"In essence, Voldemort's blood isn't his. It's a magical replica of Harry's blood," Hermione clarified. "The fact that his blood is a copy of Harry's, could mean Voldemort has no control. Since the blood used to denote who the demon's master was Harry's own blood, it might mean he is his own master!"

"But it could also mean I've only weakened his control," Harry stated. "Perhaps the distance between us has lessened his control even further. What happens if I come in close contact with him? Will his control become stronger and overpower me?"

"Perhaps," Hermione admitted and chewed her lip for a moment. "However, if that's the case, we might be able to strengthen your control or even sever his connection with you. Maybe the selection of the concubines can increase your self-control. Don't worry Harry, I think this foul up with the blood works in your favor. We can use it to our advantage."

"Surely You Know Who must've thought of that," sounded Daphne.

"Voldemort isn't stupid by any means," Harry stated. "But he is incredibly arrogant. He might've believed that it didn't matter that his blood was taken from me. In his mind, the ritual would've taken away my will, no matter if my blood runs in his veins or not. He'd have thought he'd be my master, regardless."

"What about removing the demon from Harry?" Susan asked.

"Even if it's possible, which I don't know, it would take a very long time, more likely than not, just based on how long it took to bind Harry" Hermione theorized. "In fact, any type of magic that uses blood is extremely complex, whether a ritual or potion making. To make matters worse, the ritual Harry went through included the blood of eight people, the seven virgin sacrifices and the master. Nine, if you include Romilda's blood from the defiling. Which means it's an incredibly complex ritual. Reversing it would be extremely difficult, if not impossible."

"What should we do in the meantime?" Harry asked.

"Well, like I said, we can look into ways of severing the tie between Voldemort and yourself," Hermione said. "I'll have to do some research over the next few days; finds some ideas. Hopefully we'll come up with something to help."

A heavy silence fell on the four once again. Susan felt a pull; an urge to be near Harry. From his bed, Harry watched the red head. He wanted her, more so than Hermione and Daphne at that moment. Hermione kept looking between Harry and Susan. Even though she was loathed to admit it, Harry needed Susan. Through her molestation of Harry, Susan had unknowingly bonded with him. And now, in order to survive, he needed to be near Susan, to feed off of her excess energy. Hermione would have to be naive to think the two wouldn't have sex if she left Harry and Susan alone. The demon needed sex according to "_Defense against Demons_" and it sent off magics or pheromones to ensure this.

Hermione sighed as she came to realize that was the reason Susan molested Harry. The magic of the demon called to her. Hermione knew this because she too felt the pull. In a moment of weakness, Susan succumbed to the desires the demon implanted in her. Hermione wondered, if she too were had suffered a bout of weakness, would she have done the same thing? The brunette shivered as the knot in her belly tightened when the image of Harry's imposing organ entered her mind.

Had she attacked Susan for molesting Harry because it was a foul deed that reminded Hermione of her rape? Or was the reason for her rage simply because Hermione herself had wanted to feel Harry's manhood plunging in her. Was it anger over the molestation or was it jealousy? Could it have been a combination of the two?

As she looked in between Harry and Susan, Hermione decided to analyze her emotions and motives later. Harry needed to regain his strength, now. That meant she had to do some research to help Harry sever any control Voldemort had over him while Harry needed to spend time with Susan, in order to feed.

"Susan, you stay here with Harry tonight," Hermione announced.

"Wh-what?" the red head asked in confusion.

"Are you barmy?" demanded Daphne. "You want to leave her-"

"She bonded with him," Hermione explained. "He needs her. There's no point in trying to change that. It happened. We'll have to deal with it."

"But-"

"We'll talk about this later," Hermione said to Daphne, and turned to Harry. "I'll be back tomorrow once my shift at the Ministry is done and after I've stopped by Flourish & Blotts to pick up some books that might help. That means I'll be here shortly before six or so."

Hermione took Daphne's hand and walked out of the hut. She made an effort not to look at Susan or Harry. Daphne, however, stared at her red haired friend. Her expression was full of pain.

**x**

**x**

When Tonks got back to her flat, she immediately wrote a quick post. All it said was _"Lionel Wagner-Frost." _

As she tied the parchment to the owl's leg, Tonks felt like throwing up. She knew that she was effectively signing Wagner-Frost's death sentence. But she had to in order to keep her parents alive. In essence, she was trading Wagner-Frost, a person she didn't know, for the lives of her parents. This thought did little to ease the guilt that ate at her soul.

**x**

**x**

Right after lunch, Pansy dragged Draco out of their Master's castle to fetch another Muggle to play with. The witch selected a chubby little blonde girl out of a crowd, before Apparating back to the castle and made their way to their chambers.

As the girl was strangled by a charmed necklace, Draco sodomized Pansy roughly. After the Muggle died and he came, Pansy knelt and began to lick Draco's soiled organ. The witch tweaked her own nipple. Then her hand slid down her body and disappeared between her legs.

As Pansy continued to lick him, an idea occurred to Draco at the sight of his lover playing with herself. If it worked, he'd be able to leave Pansy for a short while.

"Pansy, I need you to do something for me," Draco said.

"Anything, my love," Pansy said with a bright glow to her face.

"I want to watch you pleasure yourself," Draco ordered. "I want to see you masturbate."

"You would?" Pansy asked.

"Yes."

Smiling wildly, Pansy lay on the bed and spread her legs as wide as they could go. With two fingers from her left hand, she rubbed her clit. And she plunged three fingers from her right deep into her vagina.

"Like this, my love?" she requested.

Draco nodded and Pansy began to stroke and rub herself.

"Does my wizard like to watch his witch finger herself?" Pansy asked while her fingers made wet, slurping sounds.

"Yes, I do," Draco said. In all honesty, it was rather exciting watching the witch he loved pleasure herself. But that was not the reason he wanted her to do it.

Watching his lover play with herself was enough to get another rise out of Draco. Upon seeing his swelling manhood, Pansy made to move off of the bed so she could relieve him.

"I didn't tell you to stop," he barked.

With fear in her eyes over not strictly adhering to her wizard's desires, Pansy returned to stimulating herself.

"I'm sorry..." she started to cry.

"No, my love, don't cry. I didn't mean to snap at you," Draco apologized. "I'm just so happy that you're doing this for me. I didn't want to see it end."

The tears now gone, Pansy smiled saucily at her lover. She slid her fingers deep inside and pulled them out. Slowly and deliberately, she brought her wet fingers up to her lips and licked off her juices.

"You like it when I do this?" she asked and continued to lick her fingertips.

"Yes, very much so," he replied.

With a fervor and burning desire to make her wizard happy, Pansy frantically masturbated. She pounded her fingers in and out of her cunt while pinching her clit hard. She cried out his name when she had her first orgasm.

"Look, Draco," she requested while prying her vulva wide open, revealing her inner walls to her lover. "Look at how wet you make me."

"Do it again," he ordered and Pansy followed his command. After her second climax, Draco repeated "Again."

As her third orgasm grew, Pansy saw her wizard's cock swell once again. Licking her lips, she begged "Give it to me. I'm tired of my fingers."

"No, I like watching," Draco said.

She whined pathetically. Her wizard was hard and she needed to give him release.

"Please, Pansy, watching you makes me so happy," Draco said, knowing that was exactly what the witch needed to hear.

Several minutes later, after a number of intense orgasms, Pansy panted; "Draco, I need you..."

Draco was sorely tempted. The sweat that dripped off of her body and her red, swollen cunt seemed so enticing to him. He wanted to plunge his manhood into her and have her scream out his name. But he needed to sneak out so he could find a way to make her less clingy.

"A few more times, my love," he ordered. "Just a few more times.

"But I'm tired. If I fall asleep before you cum, I wouldn't have done my duty," she complained.

Thinking fast, Draco lied; "When you're asleep, I'll use you to get my release. I've always wanted to shag you while you slept."

"Really?"

"Yes," he replied. Pansy returned to her task with new-found energy and passion. The thought of fulfilling one of her wizard's fantasies gave her strength.

A few minutes later, Pansy's hand fell and she let out a shuttering breath. "Take me, Draco, while I sleep..."

Draco waited for a moment, to make sure she wasn't faking. The steady rise and fall of her breasts told him that she had fallen into an exhausted slumber. Not willing to take the chance she might wake up while he was out, Draco leveled his wand at her and muttered _"Stupefy!"_

He stuffed his erect manhood back in his trousers and left the room.

**x**

**x**

"What the hell were you thinking, leaving Susan with Harry?" Daphne demanded when she and Hermione arrived at their flat.

"I was thinking that they're going to have sex," Hermione replied in a calm and level voice, as if her comment had no effect on her whatsoever.

Daphne blinked slowly, looking at her girlfriend in stunned silence. Hermione ignored the black haired witch's gaze. She made her way to her book collection and began selecting various tomes while Daphne continued to stare.

"Have you lost your mind?" Daphne finally asked after Hermione had an armful of books. "You think its okay that Susan is going to shag Harry?"

"NO, IT IS NOT _'OKAY'_!" Hermione snapped loudly. Her rage broke through her cool exterior and she threw a book into a wall. "I am not _fine_ with the fact that she molested my best friend. And I am not fucking _pleased_ with the notion that he's probably shagging her brains out as we speak!"

"Then why the hell did you suggest that she stay with him?"

"BECAUSE I HAD TO!" she roared, throwing another one of her precious books across the room. "She used him as a dildo to get off, and now they're bonded. There's no point in denying that. Harry needs to be close to her, and yes, even _fuck_ her in order to survive. The demon Voldemort forced into Harry needs it. That's why I suggested it. Because my friend needs it!"

"Hermione, I didn't-"

"I'm not happy that she _fucked_ him when he was unconscious!" she shouted and threw another tome. The pages were torn from the binding as it flapped and tumbled through the air. "And I'm not bloody happy he'll have cum in her again by morning at the latest!"

Daphne watched in disbelief as Hermione chucked a fourth book at the ground.

"And I'm mad as fucking hell because I'm jealous!" the brunette snarled. "I wanted to be the one who woke him up. I want to be the one he needs! _ Me, not her!"_

With a pathetic whimper, Daphne's knees gave out and she collapsed on the floor.

"You —you want him?" Daphne asked and tears welled up in her eyes.

Hermione was on the verge of screaming again when she saw the pain and hurt in her lover's eyes.

"Oh, no baby, not like that," Hermione gasped and dashed at Daphne. She quickly grabbed her hands, but Daphne tugged herself away from her lover's grasp.

"Then like what?" she demanded. Her lip quivered sadly as she pressed on. "In what way do you want him to need you?"

Hermione blink and tears fell down her face. "Ever since we went down that trap door guarded by Fluffy, Harry's needed me. Probably even before that. Whenever he needs answers, the first person he comes to is me. If he needed help with spell-work or when he needed tactics dealing with the Tri-Wizard tournament, he came to me first. He's always needed me. It feels wrong he doesn't need me now."

"You mean that he doesn't need to fuck you," Daphne challenged. "You're not just jealous he isn't leaning on your shoulder, are you? You're jealous that he isn't sticking that thing of his in you."

"How can you say that," Hermione said with a touch of anger. "I love you. How could you even think I would want someone else?"

"Because you're in love with him," Daphne shouted. "I've seen the way your eyes light up whenever you talk about him."

"I'm sure they light up even more when I talk about you," defended Hermione.

"And since he came back, it's gotten worse," Daphne forged ahead, ignoring Hermione's arguments. "That day before Susan gave Harry head, I could smell you. You were so fucking aroused your knickers must have been dripping."

"That was just the demon aspect," Hermione stated. "It affected you the same way."

"Bullshit."

"Oh,_ 'bullshit'_ yourself," Hermione replied angrily. "You can't tell me that you haven't fantasized about Harry either since he returned."

"Oh, I did. A hell of a fantasy," Daphne replied. "But I know it isn't just the demon affecting you. It's not just magic drawing you to him."

"And how do you know that?"

"Remember the night I pretended to be Harry?" Daphne asked with a humorless smile. "I watched you writhe under me. There was no _demon aspect _that night to make you so randy. It was your own fantasy about Harry that made you so hot."

"I happen to recall that night, too," Hermione shot back. "You got into the moment when I pretended to be Susan, remember?"

"Yeah, I did. But I always knew it was you. When I called you_ 'Susan,'_ it was just an act. I didn't believe it," Daphne stated. "You were so into it when I told you to imagine me as Harry. I thought you were going to beg me to pull out and cum on your tits like it was his willy fucking you and not my fingers. I'm surprised you didn't call my fingers a _cock_ the way you've been dropping that term lately. It was fucking clear you wished it was Harry shagging you not me!"

"That was just pretend," Hermione protested. The memory of that particular moment flooded her mind. Daphne was right, she had become so wrapped up in the fantasy she almost had thought it was Harry on top and in her. "It didn't mean-"

"IT MEANT EVERYTHING!" Daphne snapped. "It showed me that you were begging to have him in bed. You're totally and completely in love with him, and you bloody well know it! You're more in love with Harry than you were ever were, or will be, with me. And now that he's back, you're going to leave me.

"When I saw Susan riding Harry, I thought I was going to die; my silly little dream of being with her was shattered," the dark haired witch continued. "I know now I'll never get my chance to be with Susan. She craves willy too much to switch and be with me. But when I think of you and him, I feel even worse. You're not just a silly little dream; you are my life. You're everything to me. I love you totally and completely. And now, when I close my eyes, I see him fucking your brains out instead of Susan. And there's nothing I can do to stop you from leaving me."

Hermione cupped Daphne's face in her hands and forced the witch to look in her eyes.

"I. Will. Never. Leave. You!" she said firmly.

"If Harry-" Daphne began.

"No, this has nothing to do with Harry," Hermione stated. "This is about you and me. I was hurt and broken. Ron ruined my heart; destroyed it. He crumpled it up and threw it aside for his own sick sexual pleasure. Daphne, you showed me what it was to be truly loved. Not just in a physical way; you fixed me, made me whole. I wake up every morning, glad that you're part of my life. Hell, I think about you all the time. I want to kiss you for hours on end and lay next to you all day and all night. You are part of me, now. A very _fucking_ important part. I could no more leave you then cut off my own right arm."

"But you love Harry," Daphne said sadly.

"Yes, I love him. With all my heart," Hermione admitted. She felt relieved, as if she had wanted to say those words aloud for a long time. "But I love you, too. Just as much. I need you. You gave me your love, and I cherish it. I would die if we were to part. You are in me. In my soul. I cannot live without you, Daphne."

Hermione leaned forward and gave Daphne a passionate kiss. She poured everything into that kiss; all of her love, her worry, everything. It made Daphne weep.

Daphne wanted to tell her to stop. She believed in her heart that Harry and Hermione weren't just in love; they were practically soul mates. It was wrong and selfish of her to deny Hermione the joy of being with her true love. The petite black haired witch wanted to be noble and step aside and allow Hermione to be with Harry. But she couldn't. Daphne knew doing so would hurt too much. To try and keep Hermione may be a petty and selfish act, but she felt as if she would die without Hermione.

As Daphne returned the searing kiss, she knew she was only delaying the inevitable. She knew, deep down in her soul, Hermione would leave her for Harry.

**x**

**x**

"Um, hi, Harry," Susan said nervously after Daphne and Hermione left her alone with him. She still felt dirty for molesting Harry. Despite lambasting herself for her actions, she found herself wanting to do it again. It was a burning need to crawl on top of him once more, and she felt like shit for it.

"Hi, Susan," Harry returned the greeting. "What did Ron do to Hermione?"

Suddenly, Susan's anxiety was washed away. It was replaced with a terrible, nauseous feeling.

"I don't think I should be the one-"

"That's what Daphne said, too," Harry cut her off. "How did he hurt her?"

Susan felt her stomach clench up and bile crept up her throat. But she did not answer.

"Whatever he did, he had to have hurt her," Harry continued. "It wasn't just something he said. Something that simple, and _common_ for Ron, wouldn't have made Hermione so mad she wouldn't even mention him. And I can assume, judging by yours and Daphne's reactions whenever I mention his name, Ron hurt her. Not just by saying something stupid, which he was famous for, but actually physically hurt her."

"I can't tell you," whimpered Susan.

"Did he curse her?" he asked. "Ron's a brash lummox. I can see him doing something stupid like that in the heat of the moment."

The red head remained silent.

"No, it wasn't that. If it was accidental, Hermione would be mad, but not to this extent," speculated Harry, ignoring Susan's discomfort over the conversation. "So it had to be something intentional. He had to have meant to hurt her. What did he do to Hermione?"

"I think I should leave," Susan said and stood up. She couldn't handle the questions. As her hand touched the doorknob, Harry called out.

"I'm sorry. Please don't leave."

Susan hesitated before requesting "You won't ask what happened?"

Harry huffed, "No."

It wasn't what he wanted to do. Something had happened between his two best friends; something terribly bad. It infuriated him that neither Daphne nor Susan would tell him. He was Hermione's best friend and he deserved to know. Instead of acquiescing to Susan's request as he had, Harry wanted to press the issue. But he knew that if he did, Susan would leave, and he wanted her to stay.

Susan gradually moved away from the door and sat in a chair by the fireplace; a good ten feet away from Harry.

"You can come closer," Harry said with a smile, trying to ease the mood. "I won't bite."

Her need to be with Harry was still present and she was worried that if she got too close to him, she would give in. Muttering under her breath, hoping that Harry wouldn't hear, Susan gave voice to her concern, "Yeah, but I might bite."

"That's all the more reason to come sit closer, then," Harry said, smiling even broader.

"You heard that?" Susan asked.

"I can hear your heartbeat if I focus enough. So a muffled, off-hand comment can be like a shout to me," stated Harry. "One of the side-effects of having this demon in me, I suppose."

Susan wrung her hands and said meekly, "I really don't think I should be too close to you, Harry."

"And I really think you should," he argued gently. "Besides the fact we're bonded and I'm feeding off of your excess energy, I feel better when you're close to me."

"Another side-effect of the demon," Susan concluded.

"That may be. But I also like you," Harry said honestly.

"Excuse me?"

"I happen to like you," he repeated. "You're very pretty. Beautiful, in fact."

Susan blushed at the compliment.

"I'm sorry I never took the time to get to know you in school," Harry admitted. "I guess I could say it was shyness on my part."

"You, shy?" Susan asked incredulously. "A star Quidditch player who had stood up to You Know Who more times than I know about was shy?"

"Talking to a girl takes a different type of courage," Harry said. "I thought I was going to have a heart-attack when I asked Cho out to the Yule Ball."

Susan giggled at the image of the bravest person she had heard about hemming and hawing his way through a conversation with a witch.

"Come over here," Harry patted a spot on the bed next to him, "so we can have a talk."

"But you said you can hear my heart-beat," Susan said impishly. "You can hear everything just fine from where I'm at."

"Yes, that's true. But I have ulterior motives," he patted the bed once more.

Standing up again, Susan muttered softly to herself, "Hermione's gonna kill me."

"No, she won't," Harry stated. Susan blushed even more. "You're going to have to learn to keep your internal thoughts less external around me."

"I suppose I'll have to," Susan said and walked to the bed.

She lowered herself and sat, just out of arm's reach. Not so Harry wouldn't be able to touch her, but so she wouldn't be able to touch him.

Comforting warmth passed over both Harry and Susan. It felt good to be close, even if they weren't in physical contact.

"I'm sorry to hear about your Aunt," Harry offered. "She seemed like a nice person."

"Oh, she was great," Susan said. "She was loving and compassionate. You wouldn't want to cross her, though. Aunt Amelia was tough as nails."

"I got that impression when I was on trial, back before our fifth year."

"They say He Who Must Not Be Named had to take her out himself," she said with sad pride. Susan was sorry that her aunt died, but she took solace in the fact that she had put up one hell of a fight.

"Voldemort," Harry said and Susan yelped in surprise.

"I really don't know how you and Hermione can say that," Susan said with a nervous laugh.

"Because it's just a name," he told her.

"To you, maybe."

"Voldemort," he repeated.

"Stop that!" Susan yelped. Her face had gone cold with fear.

"No, I won't," Harry said. "It is just a name. You shouldn't fear it."

"That's easy for you to say. You're bloody brave."

"And you're a coward?"

"What? No!" she shot back offended at his comment.

"Then say his name," Harry's tone was not angry or forceful. It was patient and gentle. "Every time you say some gibberish like _'You Know Who' _or _'He Who Must Not Be Named' _you're giving Voldemort power over you. Voldemort thrives off of fear; it's where he gets his power from. And every time you refuse to say his name out of fear, he wins a little."

"But it's like a curse to us," defended Susan.

"It's like a curse because you, and people like you, have made it into a curse," he explained kindly. "I know for a fact that he fashioned his name as a way to instill fear in people. Every time you shiver at the name _'Voldemort'_ he gets some kind of perverse pleasure out of it."

Susan looked apprehensive. She knew Harry was speaking the truth. But even Aunt Amelia couldn't say You Know Who's name. Susan doubted she could either.

"Come here," Harry requested and held out his hand.

Tentatively, Susan inched closer to Harry. She intertwined her fingers in his. Susan's body tingled at his touch.

"Repeat after me," Harry coached. "_Vol_..."

"V-Vol..." she stuttered.

"... _duh_..."

Gulping, Susan muttered "... duh."

"... _more_..."

"M-more."

Smiling triumphantly, Harry said again; "_Voldemort_."

"V-V-Vold-d-dem-mort," Susan looked as if she was about to faint over the ordeal.

"Very good," cheered Harry. He pulled Susan into a hug. Her face came to rest on his bare shoulder. Harry felt his skin prickle, like it had been asleep and blood was now slowly flowing into the area.

"Oh, my God; that was scary!" Susan said while chuckling. The red head was proud that she had forced herself to say the dreaded name, even if she had stammered. "I've never said his name out loud before."

"You did well," Harry said while moving his hand in a circular motion on her back. She felt so warm, he couldn't help himself.

She could feel him heat up. Unconsciously, she nuzzled her face against his scarred shoulder, basking in his warmth as her nose and eyelids were tickled by his rough skin. Slowly, her face moved from his shoulder to the nape of his neck. She felt the tattoo of his pulse against her cheek and it caused her to snuggle into him even more.

Susan pulled away, frightened and ashamed.

"We really shouldn't be doing this," she mumbled.

"And why not?" asked Harry, already was missing her in his arms.

"Because Hermione will murder me," Susan said, over-punctuating each word to drive her point home.

"Do you honestly think she didn't know this would have been a possibility?" asked Harry. "That book specifically stated the demon in me feeds off of contact and sex. Hermione knows this. She isn't stupid, quite the opposite. If she were truly opposed to us being together, she would've stayed here tonight in order to see we didn't do anything. She would have conjured up a cot and acted as a chaperon. I know her, and I've seen first hand how determined she is and how committed she can get. If she didn't want us to be together, for whatever reason, she would've done everything in her power to stop us. Hermione would've even stood between us to act as a barrier."

"Still, I don't think she'd be pleased with the thought of us being... _you know_," Susan countered.

"I agree. She's probably peeved, to put it mildly," stated Harry. "But pleased or not, she's clearly accepted it by leaving us alone. Hell, she even told us when she would be returning tomorrow. I'm certain she did that in order to give us a chance to clean up and dress. So she wouldn't walk in on us. That was her way of giving us permission in all likelihood."

Susan ached deep down inside. She wanted to do it, to feel him inside again. But she felt as if she would betray Hermione if she gave in. She knew her brunette friend loved Harry. Susan felt as if she would be taking him away from Hermione if she slept with him.

It was a burning need in him. He could feel the beast pacing back and forth; demanding to be fed. But feeding the demon wasn't the reason why he wanted to be with Susan. Harry wanted to feel her, to touch her in a loving fashion.

"I need you, Susan," Harry implored. "And I know you need me too."

"Harry, I don't want to hurt my friend," Susan stated apologetically. "I'll hurt Hermione if we do this."

"Hermione has given us her blessing, begrudgingly as it was," he argued. "As I said before; if she was opposed to us being together, she would've stopped us."

"That may be true. But I'm not going to risk my friendship with Hermione anymore than I already have for a simple shag to feed a demon," Susan said it like the dirty act it was.

"I didn't say the demon needed it. I said_ 'I' _needed it," corrected Harry. "I want you. I want to feel you, to touch you. The demon be damned, I want to spend the night with you. And I know damn well that you want it, too."

"What about Hermione?" she asked, ignoring her itch. "She may have given us the go ahead, but she'll still be irked."

"We can deal with Hermione later," Harry said. "Tomorrow is another day; let's be together tonight."

Susan chuckled, "That's the cheesiest pick up line I've ever heard," her mood suddenly lightening.

"Yeah, I thought so too," he agreed. "But you have to give me credit. It was my first one after all. I told you, I'm nervous around witches, especially the pretty ones like you. This was the first time I've ever tried to woo a witch with my charm."

Harry reached out once again. Susan had her doubts. How would Hermione and even Daphne react? Would they be mad at her or would they accept it?

One look into Harry's beautiful green eyes pushed her doubts away for the time being. She took his hand and allowed him to pull her onto the bed.

"Even though it was a tacky line, it was a good first attempt," she said smiling, "very poetic."

"I'll work on some better lines for the future," offered Harry before he leaned forward and kissed Susan's full lips.

A wave of excitement flowed through their bodies the moment their lips met. Goose flesh blossomed all over Susan's skin; her toes even clenched. As blood began to flow into his manhood, Harry felt the beast that was the Pryapux Demon rear up; like an animal ready to pounce on its prey. It wanted to take control. He could tell the beast wanted simply to push Susan onto her back and pound Harry's cock into her as rapidly as he could until he came, regardless of the witch's pleasure or lack there of. Harry forced the demon back. This moment with Susan was not for the demon's benefit. It was for Harry's, and he wanted to savor it as much as he could.

Moving away from her lips, Harry traced kisses down her chin to her neck. Susan let out a throaty growl as he playfully nibbled on her skin. He placed light, playful kisses on her collarbone, tickling Susan.

"I know where you're heading," she said with mirth.

"Am I that obvious?" he asked smiling.

"You're a bloke," Susan stated and she pulled her wand out of her robes. "The first thing they head for are the _'girls'_."

"Can you blame them?"

"No, not really," she replied and flicked her wand over her body. With a soft pop, her robes and clothes disappeared, revealing her naked form.

Harry stared gob smacked at her ample breasts. The curve of her large bosom amazed him. Her wide, pink areolas were peaked with large nipples. He counted three thin, blue veins, barely visible under her pale skin, on her left breast. Her breasts looked marvelous, beautiful in every aspect.

"Wow," he uttered in amazement.

"There are nice, aren't they?" she asked while gracefully tracing her fingertips over one of her nipples.

"That is an understatement," Harry breathed.

"And they're all natural," she bragged. "No Engorgement or Growth Charms here. You've got pure, one-hundred percent Bones' family titties."

With a nervous, yet eager hand, Harry reached out and touched one of her nipples. Susan shivered. She had sensitive breasts, but there was something about Harry's touch that made her prickle more than normal. With the tip of his finger, Harry drew a circle on her areola around the nipple. He watched in outright fascination as the nub grew and hardened under his gentle touch.

Each passing moment, Harry could feel himself growing stronger and stronger. A short while after he started playing with her nipples, Harry found enough strength to raise himself up easily. Slowly, Harry leaned forward and ran his tongue over her nipple. Susan gasped as what felt like a mild electric charge raced through her body. He placed his lips around her areoles and sucked gently. For the next few minutes, Harry focused his efforts on each of Susan's glorious breasts. He kissed, suckled, licked and nibbled every inch of her flesh while his hands massaged and stroked her mounds in turn. Susan had grabbed a fistful of his hair when he scraped his teeth along the sensitive skin on the underside of her tits.

Susan caught one of his hands and placed his fore and middle finger in her mouth. Harry looked up from her breasts and watched as she suckled his digits. The sight and feeling of being in her mouth made him shudder. After they were sopping with her spit, Susan removed his fingers and guided them down, between her legs. Placing the tips on her labia and clit, she urged; "Rub me."

Harry happily complied. He locked eyes with Susan as he gently rubbed, massaged, and caressed her bud and folds. Her eyes grew darker and darker as Harry continued his foreplay. After a few moments, Susan started to grind and lightly buck her hips, daring Harry to increase his pace. He applied more pressure and sped up his fingers upon her silent urging. Soon, Susan began to moan pleasurably.

Then Harry slid a finger in. She was so warm, almost hot. A subtle wet noise sounded when Harry pulled his finger out. Susan gasped when he pushed his forefinger back in. On the third entry, Harry added his middle finger as well. He watched her ever changing expressions with amusement as he continued to slide his fingers in and out. For one moment, her face appeared frozen; her eyes screwed shut and her mouth open wide. In that moment, it seemed as if Susan had forgotten how to breathe. Next, she was biting her lower lip and looking at Harry with wide, pleading eyes while mewing like a contented cat.

Susan was amazed. She had done this more times than she cared to count; both by her own hand and by her lovers' as well. But she had never reacted so intensely before, and never so early on in foreplay. It felt so good, far better than the times she had been fingered before.

With a deft motion, Harry thumbed her swollen clit while pumping away with his fingers.

"BLOODY-FUCKING-HELL!" she exclaimed. Susan was shocked to feel an orgasm approaching. She had never had one come on so quickly. It was as if his touch was magical.

Smiling at the witch, Harry flicked his thumb over her bud once more. She cried out in pleasure. Susan could feel the pressure building. It was like a heavy weight in her groin. Harry flicked his thumb again and again while continuously pumping his fore and middle fingers in and out of her flower.

"Oh, God. Oh, God!" she moaned out. Suddenly it hit her. Like a tiny explosion emanating from the base of her spine, it shot up into her brain, sending the fiery charge through her limbs down to her toes and fingers. Everything in her vision went white.

As her inner walls clamped down around his fingers, Harry felt power pouring off of Susan's naked form. He could sense it passing into his body, being absorbed by him, making him stronger. In the pit of his belly, he felt the demon feed.

Gasping for air, Susan grabbed Harry's hand and pulled it away from her. As her strangely intense orgasm subsided, she said in between gulps of air; "Now... it's your... turn..."

She slid down his body until she was kneeling between his legs. She bent over and was about to place his already erect organ in her mouth.

"Um, that's weird," Harry commented as he finally took notice of his penis. The wizard had been so intently focus on the beautiful witch that he had not seen his own organ until Susan was about to put it in her mouth.

"What's weird?" Susan asked after licking his crown.

"I'm huge," he commented.

"Yeah, I noticed that too," she said smiling. Susan added sarcastically, "It's amazing how these things just pop up without you realizing."

"No, I mean I'm bigger than I used to be," Harry corrected.

"How much bigger?" she asked as her fingers lightly danced on his shaft.

"A few inches, I think. I'm not sure."

"Oh, come on. I know blokes. I know you lot measure yourselves," she said coyly and Harry blushed. "How big were you before?"

"Just about eight inches," he admitted.

"That's still a respectable size. But you're definitely bigger than that now," Susan commented. She eyed his organ, clearly measuring it. "I'd say you're at least ten, if not eleven inches."

"Do you think it grew because of the demon?" he asked.

"Right now, I don't give a damn," Susan said and licked him again. She placed her tongue flat against the base of his rod and slowly dragged it to his tip. Her tongue flicked at his spongy crown before she licked her lips, savoring his unique taste. "We can find out where your growth spurt came from later. Right now, just lie back and enjoy yourself."

Harry laid his head back; basking in the joyous sensation of her mouth, lips and tongue on his sensitive skin. She alternated between tracing her tongue around every vein, bump, and wrinkle on his shaft and sucking on his crown. She licked up his pre-cum, enjoying his salty taste.

As she worked his manhood, Susan felt the heat build up in her crotch. After just a few moments of having his cock in her mouth, she started to burn. It still amazed the red head how sucking Harry off got her so hot.

Breathing heavily, Susan removed his organ from her lips. She crawled up so that she was positioned directly over his large member. Reaching down, she took hold of Harry and lowered herself. She held her breath as the crown pushed past her labia. Harry felt his testicles begin to well up as her vagina encapsulated his organ. He watched in rapt attention as each one of the imbedded rune-stone lumps popped into her snatch. Each time one disappeared in her, a shiver of delight washed over Harry, and Susan moaned loudly. Once his entire length was in, Susan paused, relishing the feeling of him filling her and stretching her out.

She and Harry locked eyes once more. And Susan raised herself up halfway before lowering herself. Her pace was agonizingly slow at first, methodically lifting herself up: centimeter by centimeter. But slowly, she increased her rate. In a matter of minutes, the red head was practically bouncing up and down.

Just as she had predicted, it was much more enjoyable then her first time with Harry. Not only was it because he was awake and had his hands on her, massaging and caressing her breasts, bottom, and clit, but she could feel what he felt. It was odd to say the least, but she somehow knew what it felt like for Harry to have her sex hugging his manhood. She could even somehow feel the pressure slowly building in his loins. It was a strange yet thrilling sensation for her which escalated her own pleasure immensely.

She had another orgasm, much like the one before, her climax rocketed up her spine and everything went white. Susan had to pause in her bouncing to regain her breath. Once she started moving again, she could already feel another orgasm building rapidly.

Harry held onto her tits, squeezing her soft, warm flesh in his palms. He could feel that he was about to cum. She felt so incredible around him and he didn't want it to end. He fought against the pressure in his loins, denying himself release. Not only was the pleasure of her womanhood massaging his shaft thrilling, but the act was also cathartic in a way. The couple was in a position similar to what the Death Eaters had forced him and Romilda into. But unlike what had happened to poor Romilda, Harry and Susan were sharing this moment, out of common pleasure. There was no pain or hurting, only desire and enjoyment.

Soon, Harry felt it approaching. He couldn't hold it back any longer.

"I'm gonna cum," he grunted.

"I know, baby, I know," Susan panted. The feeling of his approaching climax through their magical connection helped to escalate her own. She pounded her hips into his, driving his member even harder and deeper than before. "Do it, Harry, cum in me."

With a powerful grunt, Harry released. Susan cried out as she felt him spasm beneath and in her. Through her new connection with Harry, she could feel what it felt like for him as his ejaculate shot out of his penis. The familiar tingling sensation she had felt the two times he ejaculated in her before raced through her body once more, sending her over the edge for a third time. She trembled as her orgasm rocked her body.

She collapsed on top of Harry, breathing heavily in his ear. Panting uncontrollably and spent, Harry felt the demon feed even more.

**To be continued…**

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Author's Notes: thanks to Evan and everyone at my yahoo group for helping me edit this chapter.


	11. Chapter 11

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Eleven

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and nonconsensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major canon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from canon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

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While Pansy was still unconscious, Draco walked briskly through the halls of his Master's castle. As he passed his fellow Death Eaters, he greeted them with a curt, yet respectful, nod of his head, which they returned. The blond wizard took great pride in the fact he had earned his compatriots' respect. When he had first arrived at the castle, he lived his life in fear from the other Death Eaters and their threats. But now, after a series of successful attacks on Muggles as well as being selected by the Dark Lord to accompany Him in the attack on Hogwarts, Draco was finally treated properly by his peers, as was his due.

He continued his trek deep into the dungeons of the castle. A strong odor of various potions brewing assaulted his nose. Draco knew Professor Snape was in his laboratory.

The greasy black haired wizard was hunched over a cauldron as it gave off a faint bluish glow and had not noticed Draco entering. The young wizard rapped his knuckles lightly on the door frame to announce his presence.

A ghost of a smile graced Snape's thin lips.

"Draco," the Potions Master welcomed him warmly. "Come in, please."

"I'm not interrupting, am I?" Draco asked politely.

"No, these are relatively simple potions," Snape said, glancing over his different caldrons. He looked back at his former student. "It is good to see you, Draco."

"It's good to see you too, Professor."

"You are no longer my student, Draco. Please feel free to call me Severus."

"Thank you, Severus." Draco beamed with pride. His former Head of House, a wizard whom Draco respected immensely, was treating him as an equal. "May I ask you some questions regarding potions, Severus?"

"Don't you wish to catch up first?" the wizard looked down his hooked nose at Draco. "I haven't seen or heard from you in months. Perhaps we can discus the weather or some other trivial aspect of everyday life?"

Draco eyed Snape suspiciously. The older wizard had a bitter tone to his words.

"What is it, Severus?" he asked. "What's bothering you, old friend?"

_"'Old friend' _am I?" Snape openly laughed. "I never knew you could be so pretentious. I was blind not to see it before."

Draco was stunned into silence.

"I overlooked your arrogance at school, mistaking it for confidence. But now I see that you are nothing more than a spoiled little boy thinking he is a man," Snape said with a sneer.

"I _am_ a man," Draco snapped back.

"Why? Because you snuck into my laboratory to steal a love potion so you could use Miss Parkinson like a toy?" he asked incredulously. "Or do you consider yourself a man because you've become adept at Muggle Hunting? Tell me, Draco, is it the raping of the weak and powerless what makes you a man?"

"How... how did you know about that?" he asked, shocked that Snape had discovered such personal things about the young wizard.

"Rumors," Snape said with a disapproving frown. "Even down here in my dungeon, I hear things. I had hoped they weren't true; that you weren't low enough to sneak into my lab and steal a love potion like a common rapist. And I had hoped you would only participate in Muggle Hunts when it would cause our Master's enemies harm, not merely for your own sick pleasures."

Recovering from the initial shock, Draco snapped back; "I'm a Death Eater! I'm neither_ 'sick'_ nor_ 'low'!"_

"You are a _thug_," Snape retorted poisonously. "You're nothing more than a mindless weapon. That is not what your parents and I were honing you for."

"I am doing our Master's work!"

"Are you really?" Snape chided. "Do you think the Dark Lord appreciates your actions with Miss Parkinson? That you turned one of his servants into a personal sex slave? And tell me; how is going out on random Muggle Hunts and raping prepubescent Muggles beneficial to our Master? Are your targets crucial to the Muggle government? Do their deaths cause the Ministry of Magic grief? Or do you perform these hunts just to satisfy your personal desires? Clearly the latter is the case, for if you had done the hunts for our Master's honor, you would've cast the Dark Mark and the targets would have been more than little girls and their families!"

Draco could no longer bear to look at his former mentor. The wizard he respected was berating him as if Draco was a petulant child. Snape's tirade was not baseless; Draco knew this. The things Snape reprimanded him for were indeed done for Draco's own pleasure, not for the Dark Lord.

"Your parents and I trained you to be a true servant to the Dark Lord. Someone he could rely on, not some cannon fodder of a brute that he would send out to simply to be killed," Snape continued. "Personally, I had hoped you would've turned out more like your mother, a skilled and valuable Death Eater, rather than your aunt who is nothing more than a crude weapon."

"How dare you say that Bellatrix isn't valuable to the Dark Lord?" Draco asked, surprised to hear anyone speak in such a way about his aunt.

"Bellatrix is a rabid dog, nothing more," Snape said venomously. "Her sole purpose in this world is to cause harm. It just so happens that our Master uses her passion for his own needs. In counterpoint, your mother is a true benefit to the Dark Lord. She is intelligent and graceful; capable of carrying out our Master's wishes in a more precise way. She operates with surgical precision, whereas Bellatrix is a common thug, granted a skilled one, but a thug none the less. If the Dark Lord requires information, your mother could procure it through skill, cunning, grace, and charm. Whereas your aunt can't gather any useful intelligence as her only ability is killing."

Draco suddenly remembered the most recent task the Dark Lord had ordered his mother to do: prepare witches for Potter. The young wizard did not think this showed poorly on his mother. However, Draco knew anyone could've prepared witches to be the demon's sluts, including the witless Crabbe and Goyle. There was no skill, cunning, charm nor grace in training witches to lie on their backs. Clearly, Snape had an exaggerated view of Draco's mother and her place in the Dark Lord's ranks.

The blond wizard then recalled the fine work Bellatrix had performed on Potter in order to prepare him for the ritual. The artful scars on the half-blood were nothing short of a masterpiece. In Draco's mind, it took far more skill and talent to cut those intricate designs in Potter's skin than it took to teach witches to be plowed like whores by a demon.

Draco also recalled his pride when the Dark Lord himself requested that he should join his inner-circle in the attack on Hogwarts. Their Master had chosen Draco that day. Any of the new recruits could have picked out virgins for the sacrifice, but the Master had picked Draco. Clearly, the Dark Lord valued Draco as a Death Eater.

With these thoughts in his mind, Draco found his strength. He looked boldly at his former professor and said; "Obviously, you and I have different opinions on what it takes to be a good Death Eater."

With a newfound sense of pride, Draco walked out of the dungeons. He was a Death Eater; he didn't need Snape's help.

**x**

**x**

The sun filtering through the windows of the hut woke him up well before Susan. Harry watched the witch for some time as she slept. The wizard knew he was now more than strong enough to sit up without any exertion. Instead of sitting up however, Harry propped himself up on his elbow so he could watch Susan sleep.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful; he reasoned with an internal chuckle that was what angels must look like. Her lips fascinated him. Susan had large, full lips that begged to be kissed. The way the corners of her lips curled up slightly told Harry she must've smiled a lot. But tiny, faint lines on the edges of her mouth gave Harry the impression she spent a fair amount of time frowning as well.

Slowly, the witch began to stir. She wiggled her body, partially to shake her sleep off and yet, at the same time, to fight the urge to awaken. Susan, with her eyes still closed, opened her mouth wide for a long, drawn out yawn. When she finished her yawn and closed her mouth, Harry leaned down and kissed her lips. Susan moaned in surprise, but quickly recovered and returned his kiss. The two worked their lips and tongues on each other for several moments. Susan's body tingled with excitement as did Harry's. He could also feel his demon feeding.

After finally pulling away, Susan commented while wiping the sleep from her eyes, "That's not a bad way to wake up."

"No, it isn't."

"How long have you been up?" she asked, looking up into his bright eyes.

"A while now," Harry answered casually, "maybe fifteen or twenty minutes."

"And what have you been doing all this time?" she asked, grinning. "Have you been playing with my titties while I was sleeping? I wouldn't blame you. Hell, I'd do it too if I were in your place."

"No, I've been watching you," he replied.

"Just watching?" she asked. She realized his eyes had not left her face the entire time they spent talking. He was looking intently at her eyes, lips, nose, and cheeks. Susan started to fidget nervously. "No, don't... don't look at me."

"Why not?" he asked with his eyes locked on her face.

"Because I look wretched," she stated. "My eyes are all puffy and my make-up is runny."

She made to get up, but Harry placed a hand on her shoulder and gently held her in place.

"Harry, please, let me get fixed up," Susan pleaded.

"Why? You're perfect the way you are right now," he said smiling softly.

She was about to argue, to say that he did not mean what he said and was just being kind. But then she saw no lies or cover-ups in his eyes, those soulful eyes that Hermione had boasted about so often. He was telling the truth.

With her own eyes sparkling, she said; "You are so getting bonus points for that."

"_'Bonus points'?"_ asked Harry with a chuckle. "We're working on a points system here?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," she returned his laugh.

"And what do these points get me?"

"Rewards," Susan said. Her face was so warm that she was positive that she must have been blushing madly, "such as a new set of robes, books, sweets... blowjobs."

"Robes and blowjobs, huh?" asked Harry slyly. "What kind of reward can I get with the points I have now?"

Cocking one eyebrow, Susan replied "It ain't gonna be a set of robes."

She placed her hands on Harry's shoulder and pushed him gently back so he was lying on the bed. She got up and straddled his stomach. Slowly, she crawled backwards. Her large breasts dragged down his torso and belly. The cruel scars that crisscross his skin tickled her nipples, making them hard. The red head didn't stop crawling until her face was over his genitals.

Susan took her time playing with Harry. She first started out by kissing every inch of his skin around his groin. Then she placed soft, gentle kisses on his testicles and growing manhood. Next, she began licking him in long, slow motions. Harry groaned when she finally took him in her mouth.

After of few bobs, Susan removed herself from his rod. While she stroked his shaft with her fingers, she eyed the organ with respect.

"Remind me to fetch a measuring stick next time, Harry," she requested.

"Why?"

"I want to be certain of your size."

"You want to be certain?"

"Yes; it's all about bragging rights, you know," she said smiling before returning to the task of stimulating the wizard.

**x**

**x**

During her shift at the Ministry, Hermione ignored the reports that kept gliding onto her desk. It would do no good to file them; nothing was ever done with the reports. So instead, she spent her time going over the books she retrieved from her flat. Some of the tomes covered charms and potions intended to increases one's strength of will or self control and resolution, but these were simple things. With their limited effectiveness, Hermione doubted they would do any good for Harry's dilemma. But she was willing to try everything, no matter how small, to help Harry.

One of the books she read intently. It would not help Harry in his predicament with Voldemort, but it did cover how to cast the Fidelius Charm. During the previous night, as she lay in bed with Daphne, Hermione came to the conclusion they were not safe in Hagrid's hut. If Voldemort decided to thoroughly check the grounds of Hogwarts despite the threat of Acromantulas, they would be easily found. And Harry would be captured. She decided that the _"security" _the giant spiders provided wasn't enough and an extra level of protection was necessary to keep Harry safe. In her mind, the Fidelius Charm, which would magically hide the hut and everyone who was in it, would do just that.

Once her shift was over, Hermione made her way to the lobby and waited for Daphne to join her. As she waited, Hermione went over the Fidelius Charm once more, which was redundant as she had already memorized it.

Fifteen minutes later, Daphne finally showed. Hermione closed her book and smiled at her lover.

"You ready to go?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah," Daphne returned with a smile of her own.

As they made their way to the community floo, Hermione remembered how they had made love the night before. Each of their touches and kisses were frantic and desperate. Both wanted to show how much they loved one another through their actions. After a particularly long love making session, the two fell asleep in each other's arms. It was a bittersweet night; their fears and doubts had hung in the air about them.

The two witches arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, waved at Tom and headed straight for Diagon Alley. Hermione and Daphne walked directly to Flourish and Blotts.

"Okay, let's split up," Hermione suggested after they entered the magical bookstore. "We'll look for anything that deals with strengthening the will, Occlumency, and exorcism or anything that might expel a demon. I know getting rid of the demon is a long-shot at best, I don't want to rule anything out just yet."

"Got it," Daphne said and headed to the back of the shop.

Hermione browsed row after row of books. Picking up any that might help Harry sever his connection with Voldemort or even expunge the demon from her friend. After half an hour, Hermione had eight heavy tomes ranging from exorcism to Occlumency cradled in her arms.

"Are you picking up more reading material to waste even more time at work, Granger?" a cold voice sounded behind her.

Hermione turned to find Martha standing a few feet away.

"Oh, hello," Hermione said nervously. "What a pleasant coincidence to see you here, Martha."

"Don't give me that," the older witch sneered. "I followed you here."

"Why?"

"To reprimand you, silly girl," Martha said coldly. "You wasted an entire day with your nose buried in books. There's a stack of reports as tall as me that piled up today because you were too busy catching up on your leisure reading."

"Does it really matter if they're filed or not?" Hermione shot back. "It's not as if anything will be done with them. The reports just sit and collect dust while the people we are supposed to protect are suffering."

"It's not your place to question your duties," Martha snapped. "You're paid to do a job, and you are expected to do it."

The older witch looked at the books in Hermione's arms and warned; "I better not see any of those at work tomorrow. Or by God, I'll toss you out on the streets."

Hermione eyed Martha angrily as the older witch walked out of the shop. The brunette huffed and grabbed_ "Occlumency; Myths and Facts; by Pius Wormington" _off of the shelf and added it to her stack.

A few moments later, Daphne joined Hermione, and the latter's mood improved greatly. The dark haired witch had six large books floating behind her. She was holding something behind her back, obviously hiding it from Hermione.

"What do you have there?" Hermione asked.

"A few books," Daphne said, knowing full well that Hermione was not asking about the books floating behind her. "A few on Occlumency, one on will exercises designed to help increase spell power, but I thought it might help. And one book on exorcism."

"That's nice," Hermione said with an eyebrow raised. "But what's behind your back."

Daphne smiled broadly and pulled a small book out and showed it to Hermione. The brunette's eyes widened.

_"Sapphic Tales; Journeys in Witchly Love?" _Hermione read the title in a whisper.

"It's brilliant!" exclaimed Daphne. "It's chock full of poems and stories." She paused and opened the book to a marked page. "And a few inspirational pictures as well."

Hermione eyes bulged even more. A small painting of two very attractive women intertwined graced the page. The image made the brunette's heart race excitedly.

"I figure we can try this tonight?" Daphne offered with a knowing grin.

"Um, that would be nice," Hermione admitted.

Daphne sauntered up to her lover, leaned close so that she was a breath's distance away from her ear, and whispered; "Or we could try it right here."

Hermione was about to protest when Daphne kissed the soft spot right under her ear. She let out a soft moan as her lover pressed her lips on her sensitive flesh.

"No, baby," Hermione whispered, "we can't. Not here."

"C'mon, the book got me randy," Daphne protested and looked deep into Hermione's eyes. The brunette's nose crinkled cutely in disapproval, just as Daphne had wanted when she suggested the ludicrous idea of public sex.

A startled gasp alerted the couple to someone nearby. They spun around and found Ginny Weasley standing at the end of the row. Her face was beet red in embarrassment. Her wide eyes darted from Daphne, to Hermione, and to the books in the brunette's arms and in particular, the book dealing with lesbian erotica Daphne held.

"What the hell are you doing here?" snapped Daphne.

"I'm sorry... so sorry! I was... I was shopping for a baby shower gift for Mafa-" Ginny blurted out before dashing out of sight with her face buried in her hands.

Hermione was bursting with conflicting emotions. Seeing Ginny had brought up the pain of their lost friendship and memories of her brother Ron, which made Hermione both sad and angry. But Ginny's slipped news of Mafalda's pregnancy cut through her. Ron was going to be a father. Hermione could not find words to describe her rage and sorrow. The rapist was bringing a new life into this world. Adding to her pain, she remembered, at one time, she had wished to have been that child's mother.

"Let's just go," Hermione sighed.

**x**

**x**

For the last hour and a half, Susan had busied herself by making everything _'presentable'_. She conjured some simple clothes for Harry: drawstring trousers and a baggy jumper. Even though she knew Hermione had accepted the fact that she and Harry were shagging, Susan didn't want to flaunt it. And having Harry remain naked seemed like a reminder of their new situation. Susan then made damn sure her appearance wouldn't give away any hints. She made it a point that her hair wasn't mussed in the slightest, make-up was clean and un-smudged. She went as far as to magically press her robes, so they didn't look like they had been chucked to the side during a shag-session —which they practically were. Harry chuckled as Susan readjusted the sheets covering his body for the fourth time in ten minutes.

"It will be okay, Suze," Harry said comfortingly. Harry spent the better part of the afternoon trying to reassure Susan. But the witch was still nervous. "You'll see."

Hermione and Daphne approached the door of the hut. The brunette was relieved she did not hear any sounds of love making coming from the small house. She been worried she would've heard Susan groaning loudly in the throes of passion. With a deliberate, loud knock, Hermione announced their presence.

Susan opened the door. Harry could immediately feel the tension between the three witches. Just by their expressions, he was able to discern they were apprehensive; each worried about what to say around each other. He could also tell that Hermione and her lover were on edge. The way they stood next to each other, within inches but not touching, gave Harry the impression they were slightly nervous around each other; as if they just had a fight and were sharing an uneasy peace.

"Hi you two," Susan greeted them with an anxious smile.

"Hey," Daphne returned, just as nervously.

Hermione opened her mouth to say hello, but a frog developed in her throat. When she opened her mouth again, she didn't greet Susan, but rather said; "We need to talk... in private."

"Um... sure..." Susan muttered.

Susan turned to Harry and he reassured; "Don't worry. I won't listen in."

"I'll stay here," Daphne offered. She knew what her girlfriend was about to do and knew that Hermione would not want an audience.

Once the two witches were outside the hut, Hermione turned to Susan saying, "I'm sorry. I was out of line yesterday. I lashed out at you because... it reminded me of what happened... It was unfair of me to do so. What you did with Harry was nothing like what … like what had happened to me.

"We all felt the demon calling; Daphne, you, and I all had desires. I'm still embarrassed by some of the thoughts I have..." Hermione blushed madly. "_Had!_ I meant_ 'had'._ In all honesty, it was only a matter of time before one of us would've given in to it."

A weight was lifted from Susan with Hermione's words. The red head knew her friend was still upset over the incident with Harry. But hearing Hermione not only forgave Susan, but admitted she too might have done the same thing made Susan feel happy and a little justified.

"And I've realized that my anger didn't just come from that. I... I was a little... this is very difficult for me to say," Hermione said with shame. She felt as if she had to explain her actions. Hermione knew it was irrational to be jealous of Susan; she herself was with Daphne now. But she still felt a pang whenever she thought of Harry with Susan.

When she had admitted being jealous of Susan to Daphne the previous night, it been done in the heat of the moment. It had simply slipped out. But now, talking calmly and rationally with Susan, Hermione found it hard to express herself. "It wasn't just anger over you sleeping with Harry when he was comatose... I... there was..."

"You don't have to say it," Susan said softly. She felt tears well up in her eyes. What Susan worried about had come true in a way. It was clear Hermione admitted, to herself at least, she was in love with Harry. Hermione was clearly trying to tell Susan that she was jealous because of her situation with Harry. Susan was filled with conflicting emotions; she was happy over the fact Hermione had forgiven her and that the brunette had come to admit her feelings for Harry. At the same time, however, Susan felt low and dirty because she was with the man Hermione loved.

Hermione, too, had tears shimmering in her eyes. With a small, sad pout, she asked, "So, are we still friends?"

Susan let out a happy sob and cried, "Can we please?"

Inside the cabin, Daphne smiled as the two witches hugged. She still felt angry over Susan's molestation of Harry. But she, like Hermione, came to realize it was going to happen, one way or the other, thanks to the pheromones or magics pouring off of Harry. Daphne also came to realize she too was jealous, not so much that she wanted Harry — which she'd be a fool not to admit; he was gorgeous, brave, and kind — but because she still wanted Susan deep down inside. She loved Hermione more than she loved anyone before; but a part of Daphne still held out hope of being with Susan; her dream witch. And now that the beautiful red head was with Harry, Daphne was jealous of the wizard.

"Are they arguing?" asked Harry from his bed.

Daphne was pleased to see him sitting up. He had gained a few noticeable pounds since the previous night. Hermione was right; it was for Harry's health to allow Susan to be with him.

"You can't hear them? Didn't you hear the Acromantulas in the castle?" she asked in response.

"Yes, but I didn't want to pry," Harry replied. "So I'm focusing in on you so I can't hear them. Hope you don't mind."

"No, they're not arguing. Hermione and Susan are reconciling," Daphne told him with a genuine smile. She didn't like to see Hermione overly angry.

She was about to comment on Harry's sudden weight gain when her thoughts became lost as she looked at him. The bed sheet was pulled up to his waist and he was wearing a loose fitting pullover; obviously conjured by Susan. A part of Daphne yearned to tug his top off and devour him with kisses. She wanted to take in his masculine scent while batting the tip of her tongue over one of his nipples. At first, Daphne tried to convince herself these thoughts were created by the Pryapux Demon inside Harry; that the demon's power had made the desire. But the black haired witch quickly acknowledged she was lying to herself. The demon aspect of Harry was only _encouraging_ these lustful thoughts. He was, after all, a very attractive young wizard.

"Are you okay?" Harry asked when Daphne's expression went blank. When she didn't respond, Harry grew concerned for a moment until he could smell her arousal, wafting to his nose like an exotic perfume. It was intoxicating. He wished he had enough strength to walk to the slightly built witch, take her into his arms, and crush his lips to hers.

The two were brought out of their thoughts as Susan and Hermione, both with puffy eyes from crying, came back into the hut.

"Are... are you two alright?" Harry asked, forcing the idea of Daphne to the back of his mind.

"Yeah, loads better," Susan said wiping tears from her cheeks.

"You'd better head to work, Susan," Daphne said, shaking her sudden arousal off. "You're already late."

"Oh, don't worry. My boss loves me," Susan said casually. "We chat all the time. If I'm late, I just apologize and he'll accept it."

"That would be nice to have a supervisor who doesn't hate your guts," Hermione commented. "Martha despises me."

"She's a cunt," Daphne added.

"Sorry about that," Susan offered. "Do you want me to start a rumor about her? You know, say she's been skimming off the top of the Muggle Relation's budget?"

"No, she isn't worth the effort really," Hermione replied. "Before you head off to work, I have to tell you something. We'll be casting the Fidelius Charm on the hut tonight just as an extra precaution."

"That sounds good," the red head agreed.

"I take it I'll be the secret keeper?" asked Harry.

"Yes," Hermione answered. The brunette addressed Susan. "It will take a few hours to cast. When we're done, I'll have Daphne drop off a note from Harry so you can return here when your shift is over."

"Okay, I'll see you three later," Susan said to her friends and Harry.

As Susan walked out of the hut, she felt a slight tug. The pull wanted her to be close to Harry. It wasn't strong or even demanding, but it was there, like a thought in the back of her mind. The red haired witch closed her eyes and Apparated to the Ministry.

"Is the Fidelius Charm difficult?" Harry asked, ignoring the small yearning to have Susan back in his arms.

"Not overly," Hermione said as she pulled a book out of her bag. "It does take some time to set up, placing runes about the area affected and such. The spell is complete when the secret keeper performs six incantations. The first five deal with blocking the hut from the senses; hearing, sight, sound, touch, and just to be on the safe side, taste in turn. I honestly don't think anyone will be looking for you using their tongue, Harry, but its part of the Fidelius Charm, so it has to be done. The sixth incantation is a little difficult; it removes the hut from everyone's memories. No one will have any recollection of this hut once the charm is in place. And since our memories; mine, Daphne, and Susan's, about this place deal with you being in it, we won't remember you being in here until you tell us the secret. The Fidelius Charm won't activate until you finish the sixth and final incantation."

Over the next four hours, Hermione coached Daphne on where to place the runes and instructed Harry how to perform the different incantations necessary to cast the charm. While Hermione demonstrated the proper wand movement to Harry, Daphne's actions had caught the wizard's eye. She had squatted down to draw a rune by the fireplace and in the process, exposed a length of her shapely leg to him. Her milky white flesh seemed so inviting; Harry wanted to kiss her thigh and run his tongue up the inside of her leg, up to her sex. His organ quickly rose up while he imagined holding her legs open and licking her flower.

Hermione noticed Harry's distracted state. She followed his gaze, which was fixed on her lover's leg. A familiar tingle spread through Hermione's body when she saw his manhood rise up out of the corner of her eye. It pressed up against his trousers proudly. Idly, she thought she couldn't blame Harry for being turned on by Daphne's legs; they were gorgeous after all. The shiver grew in her, and she licked her lips as an image of Daphne's wonderful legs wrapped around Harry's waist entered her mind. An ache formed in her as she wondered what Daphne would taste like with Harry's cum mixed inside her.

Daphne looked up, feeling a pair of eyes on her, to find both Harry and Hermione eyeing her lustfully. The dark haired witch gulped in fear. She was not afraid of those stares, but she was overcome with some kind of anticipation. A part of her wanted Harry and Hermione to have their way with her. That was what frightened her.

With a slight wobble to her knees, Daphne stood up and decided it was time to place the runes that went on the outside of the hut. After the distraction of her lover was gone, Hermione returned to tutoring Harry.

Once the runes were in place and both Hermione and Harry were confident he had memorized the incantations, they began casting.

"Daphne, you better stay outside," Hermione requested. The dark haired witch had not yet returned to the inside of the hut for fear of giving into temptation. "I'll stay in here with Harry. Once he tells me the secret and after he writes a note for you, I'll come out and give it to you.

"Now I don't know how Daphne and I will react," the brunette said to Harry. "The Fidelius Charm will effectively remove the hut from our minds. And, as I said earlier, we won't know why we're here." She turned back to Daphne and said in calm voice, "Just try not to panic when you're out there."

The dark haired witch nodded and left the hut. She stood just on the other side of the door and leaned against it.

Hermione sat next to Harry and handed him her wand. She said, "Start whenever you're ready."

"All right, here goes," Harry replied and began to wave his wand about just as Hermione instructed. He went through the first five incantations with relative ease. The sixth one, the part dealing with memories, was far more difficult. It took eight tries to accomplish, even with Hermione's help.

Once he finally finished, he felt a wave of magic pass through him and then through the hut. The runes placed in specific points throughout the inside of the hut began to glow brightly. The runes appeared to be on fire. The light they were giving off hurt Harry and Hermione's eyes. Then runes disappeared, as if absorbed by the small building. Everything returned to normal. That is, everything returned to normal for Harry.

Daphne found herself standing in the field just outside of Hogwarts. Panic started to set in. What the hell was she doing there? This was madness! Acromantulas were crawling all over the place and she was just standing there like some damn fool. She was about to bolt, when she remembered she and Hermione came here together. They had come to help Harry, but that didn't explain why they had come to the Acromantula infested castle. Hermione was nowhere in sight. Had she gone into the Forest? Or worse yet, had she gone back into the castle where the giant spiders were in force? Chewing her lip and wringing her hands in dread, Daphne began to look in every direction, trying to catch sight of her lover.

Inside the hut, Hermione was looking around in a growing panic. She didn't know where she was and couldn't focus on anything. All the colors and shapes were marred and blurred into a headache inducing mess. Her ears were filled with an annoying buzzing sound. The only thing that she could see, the only thing her mind could focus on, was a door several feet away. She felt a compelling, almost terrifying, urge to leave this place, whatever it was. With her heart pounding away frantically, she made to get up, to somehow find a way out of this nightmarish place, when she felt a slight pressure on her face.

Harry cupped Hermione's face gently. Her eyes were wide with fear and doubt, looking about the room frenziedly. As he held her face, Harry wondered if she had the same look of terror and uncertainty when Ron hurt her. Had she begged him to stop, whatever it was. Did she wonder why he was doing it? Bile crept up his throat at the thought of what Ron must have done to Hermione. It pained Harry to see her this way. How could Ron, his best mate, do something to such a wonderful person?

"Hermione, you're in Hagrid's hut," Harry said comfortingly. "We're in Hagrid's."

Suddenly, everything snapped into focus. Hermione remembered everything. She looked into Harry's bright eyes and she smiled.

"It worked?" she asked.

"Yeah, it worked," he answered.

Hermione was taken by the look in his eyes. They were full of concern and compassion, but also a touch of anger. She could tell, somehow, his compassion was for her, but the anger he felt was directed at someone else.

"Are you okay?" she asked and placed her hands on top of his which were still cupping her face.

Harry took in a breath and inquired, "What did he do to you?"

Hermione didn't need to ask whom he was referring to. She didn't understand how Harry knew something had happened; she knew neither Daphne nor Susan would've said anything. With painful memories of her rape filling her mind, the witch tried to pull away, but Harry held onto her face; his grip was surprisingly strong, yet gentle.

"What did he do?" he repeated.

Tears sprang up in Hermione's eyes. "I... I... not now, Harry. You're too weak..."

"Balls," he said firmly. "What the fuck did he do to you?"

Hermione's lip trembled pathetically. She couldn't bring herself to tell him; as if the act of speaking about the rape would be as bad as the assault itself. She knew it would not only hurt her to speak about it, but it would hurt Harry as well. No, she realized, she wouldn't tell him, not at least now. With a newfound resolve, the witch stopped her lip from quivering, but still unable to stem her tears. Hermione stated, "I won't tell you. Not until you're healthy."

"Hermione-" he pressed.

"HERMIONE!" a frightened voice screamed from outside the hut, interrupting Harry. "WHERE ARE YOU?"

"Oh, hell," Hermione muttered. She shot up and dashed to her bag. After rapidly retrieving a quill and parchment, she begged Harry, "Here, write the secret so I can give it to Daphne."

As he scribbled a short note, Harry said, "We're not finished with this."

"I know," Hermione said with worry. Not only for her girlfriend wandering around outside, but also finally telling Harry that Ron raped her.

**x**

**x**

Susan knew she was lucky. Most supervisors in the Ministry were utter bastards, like Hermione's boss. But Susan's supervisor, Albert, was a complete sweetie. When she arrived for her shift, a full twenty minutes late, the elderly wizard brushed off her excuse and said with a wide, toothless grin; "It's okay, young lady, it's not like there's much to do around here nowadays."

For the next four hours, Susan worked on filing reports. It was a pointless job now that the Ministry had severed all ties with the Muggles. She hadn't been on a call to Obliviate any Muggles for months. But if the government wanted to pay Susan for not really working, she'd gladly take the money.

As she mindlessly went about the mundane aspects of her duties, Susan noticed she could still feel Harry, even though he was hundreds of miles away. If she focused, she could that he was getting aroused; she smiled, wondering if Hermione or Daphne had done something to attract his attention. Perhaps a bit of cleavage had been accidentally revealed, maybe his eyes lingered on one, or both, of their bottoms. It was odd; she didn't feel jealous Harry was attracted to either Hermione or Daphne, which puzzled Susan. Normally, if she was with a bloke like she was with Harry, she'd be mad as hell if she caught them even glancing at another witch. She reasoned as long it was Daphne and Hermione, she'd be okay with Harry looking at them. They were her best friends after all. But then she realized he wasn't just looking, he wasn't just aroused. He was so turned on that his manhood was becoming hard. Through their connection, she could feel his pressure grow. And yet, Susan still wasn't bothered. She frowned as she tried to evaluate her emotions. Was the reason she wasn't upset over Harry's arousal was that Daphne and Hermione were lovers and therefore wouldn't do anything inappropriate with him? Or was it something else?

Just when Susan was about to take her meal break, she suddenly forgot where Harry was. It was as if someone had reached into her brain and snatched the memory right out of her. She could remember the time she spent with him, but she couldn't recall anything about the place itself. She couldn't think of anything useful about the location Harry was at. All she knew was that it had walls and a bed; she couldn't even recall the color of the walls or even the size of the bed.

An hour later, Daphne showed up in Susan's office. She handed Susan a note, which she quickly read.

_"Harry is in Hagrid's hut."_

Susan let out a shuttering laugh as the memory of the hut returned to her. Turning to her friend, Susan said, "That was weird... almost scary."

"You weren't outside the place when it disappeared," Daphne pointed out. "All I knew was there were hundreds of Acromantulas in the castle and I had no idea why I was there. When Hermione came out and gave me my note, I was about to head up to the school, thinking she went up there for some reason."

"Okay, that was scarier," Susan commented. The red head pulled her wand out of her robes and tapped it against the piece of parchment. The note disappeared in a flash of fire.

"What are you and Hermione going to do tonight?" Susan asked. What she really wanted to know was whether or not her two friends still hated her for her actions with Harry, but she couldn't bring herself to ask.

"Well, this is really the first night in a long time we can spend alone," Daphne said. "Last night, we had a row."

"About me?" asked Susan, fearing the answer. She hoped that she didn't drive a wedge between the two lovers.

"Kind of, in a way. I didn't know why she had let you stay with Harry last night. She explained her reasons, but then our argument turned down another path," Daphne said.

"You mean Harry, right?"

"Yeah," Daphne answered. Despite Hermione's reassurances, the skinny witch still feared her lover would leave her.

"Is everything okay with you two?"

"Oh, yeah, we got it all out and everything's fine. After our row, we had great make-up sex," Daphne said, not even believing the words herself.

"If you need anyone to talk to, I'll be there for you if you want," Susan offered.

With a quiver in her lip, Daphne replied, "That'd be nice. But I think Hermione and I will work it out."

She wasn't lying about talking to Susan. Even though she was still upset at the red head for succumbing to the demon in Harry, Daphne missed having talks with her best friend. And as she looked at curvaceous witch, Daphne recalled the lie she told herself the previous night; she was not over Susan. Regardless of the fact Daphne was truly in love with Hermione and would never leave her lover, Daphne still wanted Susan. The petite witch wanted to be able to make the red head smile and moan. And this want made Daphne feel low; such thoughts were inappropriate and selfish as she was with Hermione and Susan would never be with another witch.

"How about I take the day off from work tomorrow," Susan offered. "That way you two can spend some time together."

"That'd be brilliant," Daphne replied.

The two witches hugged before heading to the lobby and then Apparating to the hut. Hermione said goodbye to Harry and left with her lover.

Once they were alone, Susan pulled out a measuring ruler from her robes.

"What is that for?" Harry asked as the voluptuous red head sauntered over to his bed.

"I'm going to use it to spackle the walls," she answered sarcastically, waving the ruler around for effect. "I'm gonna measure that big hunk of meat you have. _'What is that for', _honestly."

"I thought you were joking this morning."

"No, I wasn't," she smiled. "This is for prosperity and for bragging rights. If it's over ten inches, I'm going to make a magical button, flashing lights and all to show every one what an epic willy you've got."

**x**

**x**

Voldemort was in a furious mood. He just received a note from his spy; the mudblood had Potter! The spy had come across the Muggle-born in a bookshop and noted Granger had books on exorcism. The only reason Granger would have such books is if she knew about the ritual. The witch had the boy hidden somewhere. And Voldemort had no clue where that hiding place could be. From everything he knew about the mudblood, she more likely than not placed his pet in a house or building protected by the Fidelius Charm. And it was logical to assume she wouldn't be dim enough to make herself the secret keeper. So, kidnapping her in order to find Potter's hiding place would be pointless. Because of the Fidelius Charm, she'd be unable to reveal the secret. No, he'd have to lure Potter out.

He considered laying a trap for the bitch at her home. He could easily send his followers out, and the moment she appeared, they'd snatch her up. Potter, being the foolish hero he was, would reveal himself. Then, Voldemort would get his pet.

The Dark Lord smiled to himself as a wicked thought came to him. Why risk his own loyal followers when he could easily arrange for the Ministry to do the work for him. It didn't matter who flushed Potter from his hiding place in the long run, so to speak. Once Potter was in the open, Lord Voldemort would have his prize.

**x**

**x**

Over the next few days, Harry gained even more weight and strength. Soon, Harry was able to walk short distances with the aid of a cane. His stamina also increased greatly as well, much to Susan's enjoyment. The pair would have sex several times a day.

As for Hermione and Daphne's relationship, they were still on edge. Hermione tried to convince Daphne she'd never leave. But at the same time, the brunette's need for Harry continued to grow and grow.

**x**

**x**

"What a day," Arthur Weasley announced as he walked into his home. Molly, Ginny, Ron, and Mafalda were sitting at the table, waiting for the family patriarch to join so they could eat dinner. "Those silly Muggles tried to nab me while I was out investigating a call."

"What?" Molly blurted out.

"Yes, those Muggles, the ones with the ele-trik guns, they came charging at me from all sides," Arthur said while spooning some peas and corn onto his plate.

"Oh, Arthur, that's horrible," Molly wailed.

"It wasn't all that bad," the old wizard said comfortingly. "I kept my wits about me and I was able to Apparate to safety easily. No real harm done. It's not like they could've done anything to me. I did have my wand after all."

"Those Muggles are a nuisance," Molly stated. "They try to snatch up decent wizards and witches left and right when they should be hunting Death Eaters."

"They don't know any better," her husband said. Brushing the unpleasant conversation aside, Arthur addressed his daughter-in-law. "How was your baby-shower, dear?"

"Oh, it was fantastic," Mafalda said with a glow. "Thank you so very much for the bottle of Madam Beebe's Diaper Rash Ointment. And Ginny gave me this wonderful book called_ 'How to Speak Baby Babble'..._"

As Mafalda prattled on about the presents she received, Ron noticed his sister giving him an icy glare. He shot her a puzzled look.

"Excuse us," Ginny said to the rest of the table while still focusing on Ron. "But my brother and I have to talk."

Ginny shot up and walked out of the Burrow. Ron shoveled a mouthful of kidney pie in his mouth before following her out.

"What is it?" he demanded, wondering why Ginny was mad at him this time.

"She's still free," Ginny stated.

"Who's still free?"

"That bitch, Granger," Ginny snapped. "I saw her the other day at Flourish and Blotts. Why isn't she in Azkaban?"

"What do you mean?"

"She tried to get you nabbed by those Muggles, remember," Ginny argued. "That bitch should be chucked in Azkaban."

"Listen, I'll deal with her," Ron said bitterly.

"Oh yes, you're doing a bang up job of that," Ginny replied, her voice dripping with cruel sarcasm. "I'm certain you've made the bitch's life a living hell —much like she did to yours."

"I said I'll deal with her," he repeated.

"Why don't you deal with her by reporting the cunt?" she asked. It was clear to Ron by her tone Ginny believed it was the only choice; to do otherwise was stupid. "Turn her arse in to your superiors. Remember, the Ministry passed all those laws to protect us from the Muggles and those that work for them. You're in the M. L. E., so you know the law. Use the law to make her pay!"

"You wouldn't understand," he said, turning his back on his sister.

"Then make me understand. Tell me why you won't do the easy thing and have the Ministry take care of her."

Ron blurted out; "Because I'm a man!"

Ginny leveled her eyes at him before speculating, "Let me see if I've got this right: you don't want to report Granger tried to get you captured by Muggles because it will be somehow admitting you're not a man?"

Ron frowned while nodding curtly.

"Well, then, let me inform you about our favorite Muggle-born," Ginny said with a vile smile. "She's moved on from you and is sleeping with someone else."

"Who is it?" he asked. Ron wondered if the bitch would cry "_rape_" with her current boyfriend like she had with him.

"Daphne Greengrass," she answered.

Ron's brow furrowed. "Wait... Greengrass? You're telling me she's with a witch."

"Greengrass may be as flat as a twelve year old boy, but she's still a witch," Ginny said with a nasty grin.

"Hermione's gone dyke?"

"With a passion," she affirmed. "I saw the two of them standing way too close to be_ 'just friends'. _And they were almost kissingwhile reading some trashy book about witch on witch love. I've heard some rumors about the two of them around work for a while, but what I saw confirmed it."

Ron pondered over this for a moment. He realized he wasn't all that upset his bitch of an ex was now a lesbian. In all honesty, he didn't care what she did with her life. As long as she stopped trying to ruin his life, she could be the biggest whore in the land, sleeping with countless witches and wizards, and it wouldn't affect him.

"Big deal," Ron announced.

"What? How can you say that?" Ginny asked. "Don't you see what she's doing? When the Slytherin slut finger bangs her, I can guarantee Granger is thinking about you."

"Why?"

"To fucking mock you, you stupid dunderhead," Ginny scolded. "Whenever Greengrass sticks her fingers in her quim or licks her cunt, I'm positive Granger thinks about how she fucked with you. How she controlled you," she added, and Ron's blood began to heat up with anger.

"And when she cums, I'm sure the Muggle-born tramp thinks about how you're not man enough. She's probably crowing about how you weren't man enough to please her when you two were together. And how you weren't man enough to stop her from ruining your life. She's still has control over you. I'd bet that Granger not only laughs at you behind your back, but is sure to be telling tales about your inadequacies," Ginny concluded.

Ron felt like hitting something very hard at that moment. Even if Ginny was only half-right, it still infuriated him to think about how Hermione viewed him. To Granger, Ron was nothing more than a toy to be played with and mocked. And if Ginny was correct about the bitch spreading lies, Ron would be a laughingstock before long.

"The first thing you do tomorrow when you go to work is march right up to your supervisor and report that bitch," Ginny said firmly. "That way, you'll show Granger you're a man not to be fucked with. And you will look good in your squad's eyes by enforcing the law. It'll prove to them that you belong among the elite."

Ron grimaced as he nodded once more.

**x**

**x**

While Hermione read over several books on Occlumency that were scattered about her desk, Daphne strolled into her office. Leaning against the doorframe, Daphne asked, "Won't your boss be cross you're not filing those reports?"

Hermione huffed. "Like it matters what I do with these reports. It's pointless to file them. Nothing will be done with the reports anyway. Martha knows this; she just likes pushing me around. I guess it gives her a thrill to have power over someone."

"So_, fuck Martha_?"

"Yes, fuck her," Hermione smiled.

"I stopped by to tell you I won't be able to help you with our friend tonight," Daphne stated, cryptically referring to Harry. "Mum and Dad want me to have dinner with them."

"That's good," Hermione responded. "Do they know about us?"

"No, they don't," Daphne said with a hint of shame she wasn't brave enough to tell her parents about her wonderful witch. "They're open-minded and all, but they still want me to give them grand-babies. I think they'd freak if they knew I was with a witch."

"My parents are the same way," Hermione said as she collected her books. Her shift was about to end and was planning on heading directly over to the hut. "I'm positive my Dad's had a dream about walking me down the aisle and shaking the hand of my husband-to-be since the day I was born. Telling him he'd be shaking the hand of my _wife_-to-be would be somewhat hard for him to take at first."

"Well, I have to stick around past my shift today; a lot of work piled up. Then I'll pop over to my folks. And unlike some gorgeous witch I know, I can't just leave the reports alone," Daphne said coyly while gesturing to the stack of papers in front of Hermione.

"You're just jealous," Hermione returned.

"Damn right I am," Daphne chuckled. "I wish I didn't have to work."

An hour later, after Daphne finished her extra work, she headed to the lobby to Apparate to her parents home. She mashed the call button on the lift and a few seconds later, the doors opened. To Daphne's disappointment, Martha, Hermione's boss, was standing in the lift.

"Ah, just the person I was looking for," the older witch greeted Daphne.

"Me? What for?"

"I have a message for your girlfriend," Martha stated.

"My girlfriend?" asked Daphne. To her knowledge, her and Hermione's relationship was a secret. "You must be mist-"

"Don't be coy with me, you dyke," Martha snapped.

"How dare yo-"

"Tell your finger-banging buddy she's out of a job," Martha interrupted. "I warned her before that if she didn't do her job, she'd be out on the street."

"I really don't like your attitude," Daphne shot back.

"And I really don't give a fuck what you like, rug-muncher," the older witch returned cruelly. "You can report my comments if you want, but I've got tenure here. I'll tell them it was a slip of the tongue. They'd believe me, not some snot-nose little witch like you."

Daphne stared daggers at the old bitch. She hated to admit it, but Martha was right; with the older witch's connections, there was nothing Daphne could do about her crude comments or actions. The Ministry ignored such complaints.

"Go run along and tell your labia licking girlfriend she's been sacked," Martha said with a dismissive wave of her hand. The older witch exited the lift and walked past Daphne.

The dark haired witch stepped into the empty lift and snarled_ "BITCH!" _as the doors closed.

**x**

**x**

Hermione knocked on the hut door as she had grown accustomed to. She still feared walking in on Susan and Harry during an intimate moment. After a small wait, Harry opened the door.

"Evening," he greeted her.

"Hi, Harry," she said, stepping into the hut. "Hullo Susan."

"Hiya," Susan returned as she picked up her bag. "I have to rush off. Albert, my boss, is sick. We have a supervisor from another department covering his shift. Unfortunately this one isn't as forgiving as Albert. If I'm late, I'll be in trouble."

The red head walked briskly up to Harry and gave him a peck on the cheek. She turned and placed another light kiss on Hermione's cheek before dashing out of the hut. Susan waved before disappearing with a pop.

"What's on the agenda tonight?" Harry asked as he walked to a chair with the aid of his cane.

"Some more Occlumency training. I haven't found anything useful yet on expelling the demon," Hermione replied while digging the numerous books out of her bag. "You've been making some great progress."

"Oh, yeah, I've been able to clear my mind once," he said sarcastically. The training had been difficult, but it was still infinitely better than the lessons he had with Snape. Instead of only barking_ "Clear your mind!" _like Snape had, Hermione had come up with a few simple exercises to help him achieve that state.

"No, you've done it more than just once, Harry," Hermione corrected. "Besides I picked up a Muggle book on meditation," she added, still pulling book after book out of her bag. "The point of some forms of meditation is to clear one's mind, so I think it could be beneficial for us to study."

Hermione paused and looked over the books stacked on the table. A second later, she curse, "Damn it."

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"I forgot the damn book on meditation," she answered. "I was planning on that book being the key point tonight, and I forgot it at my flat."

She turned and looked at Harry. "I'll be back in a second."

"Wait," Harry implored. "Let me go with you."

"Why? I'm just going to Apparate to my flat, grab the book and be back in a flash," she stated.

"I'm going barmy in here," Harry told her. "I've been locked up in here for days and days. All I see everyday are these four walls."

"Harry, I'm just going to my flat. It's nothing special," she pointed out. "Why would you want to go there? All you'd be doing is trading these four walls for the four walls in my flat."

"Yeah, but they'll be different walls."

"What if Death Eaters are watching my place? You show up there and we could be attacked," she argued.

"If Death Eaters were watching your flat, they would've made a move by now," Harry countered. "Tell you what; put me under a Disillusionment Charm. That way if anyone is watching your place — _which I doubt_ — they won't see me."

Hermione worried her lip as she thought over his request. Harry had been getting restless and she couldn't blame him. He had been stuck in this dingy hut for a long time. Any change, no matter how small, would be welcomed.

"All right, we'll do it," she answered and Harry smiled brightly. "Not only will I put a Disillusionment Charm on you, but I'll go against polite behavior and we'll Apparate directly into my loo. There are no windows in there so there'll be even less of a chance of anyone seeing you. Once I check the rest of the flat, you can venture around a bit."

"Thanks Hermione. I appreciate it," he said, grinning even broader. It made Hermione glad to see him smile.

**x**

**x**

Ron followed his sister's suggestion. It had been difficult for Ron to admit to his supervisor that Granger tried to ruin his life again but he forced himself to do it. Once he was finished, Wright began giving orders. Wright told Ron to take two other M. L. E. offices and wait for Granger outside her flat to arrest her. Wright didn't want to do it at the Ministry because it could've caused a scene. Ron knew the real reason Wright decided to avoid the publicity. If Granger was arrested at the Ministry, people would talk. And soon, Ron's shame of being toyed with would have been known to everyone. For this, Ron was grateful to Wright.

So, Ron and his fellow officers waited patiently outside of the flat Granger shared with her girlfriend. They planned on placing her under an Anti-Apparation Charm the moment she Apparated in front of them.

"She's late," Bagshot complained. "Her shift was supposed to end a half hour ago."

"Knowing Granger, she's probably stopped somewhere to buy more books," Ron said snidely, recalling her stupid fascination with books.

"This cunt really has it in for you, doesn't she?" Stevens asked. "First she accuses you of rape, _the whore_. And then she breaks the law by trying to have the Muggles nab you."

"Yeah she does," Ron said bitterly. He wanted to say his coworkers didn't know the half of it. That Granger is mocking him every time her dyke slut goes down on her, he thought bitterly. But he was too ashamed to admit this degrading secret to them. "I'd be grateful if this doesn't get out, blokes."

"Don't worry, mate," Bagshot said while slapping Ron on the back. "Not a word."

"Wait, I heard something from inside," Stevens whispered and he leaned forward so his ear was pressed against the door. "She just Apparated directly into her flat."

"How rude," Bagshot commented. "No one does that, not even into their own place. Fucking Mudblood snubbing our traditions."

Ron was momentarily surprised he wasn't appalled that Bagshot had used such a foul and loathsome term. He quickly came to realize Granger, of all people, had earned the title of a mudblood.

**x**

**x**

As Tonks filled out her mundane reports, Kingsley Shacklebotl walked into her office with a concerned look on his face.

"Hey, Kingsley, what brings you here?" Tonks asked without emotion, knowing full well the answer.

"I went to talk to Wagner-Frost about going the Order, there was a Dark Mark over his house," he informed her.

"Shite," she groaned. Tonks let a bit of her emotional shield down and allowed a portion of the guilt and sorrow that constantly filled her to bubble up to the surface. Tonks hoped that it looked like to Kingsley that she was genuinely upset over the news.

It was important to keep up appearances for the witch. Otherwise, the spy Voldemort had, or rather the spy besides Tonks herself, would report back to their masters and Tonks' parents would suffer.

"We're going to hold another Order meeting tomorrow night," Kingsley said. "It looks like we've got another spy in our midst."

Tonks turned deathly pale.

**x**

**x**

After placing Harry under a Disillusionment Charm, Hermione brought him to her bathroom through side-along-Apparition. The charm did not turn him invisible, but rather transparent. She couldn't see him clearly, but she could see the blurry outline of his form. Hopefully if anyone was watching from a distance, they wouldn't be able to see Harry.

"Don't worry. Everything will be fine," Harry said, soothing her nerves.

"Let's go get the book," Hermione said and led him out of her bathroom and into the bedroom she shared with Daphne.

Harry could smell the two witches' lovemaking. It hung in the air, teasing him. He paused and took a deep breath, letting Hermione's and Daphne's scents wash over him.

"Why are you stopping?" Hermione asked. "Are you tired? You haven't moved much lately, so I wouldn't be surprised if Apparating was draining on you."

"Yeah, just a bit," he lied.

"Okay, you wait here," offered Hermione. "I'll go fetch the book. It should be on the kitchen table."

Harry watched her as she walked out of the room. His eyes were fixed on her firm bottom as he took another deep breath. The aroma was intoxicating and made him light headed. He could pick out Hermione's distinctive scent from Daphne's and he wanted to evoke that aroma from her; to make her wet.

As Hermione retrieved the book, she remembered she and Daphne had made love just that morning. And knowing Harry had a heightened sense of smell, she realized he would be able to smell the musky odors that gave proof to their activities. Harry wasn't tired from the trip; he was staying in the bedroom so he could take in her and Daphne's scent of arousal. She found herself wondering if he was turned on by it, if his manhood was swelling up just by the scent of their sex.

Reaching down between her legs, Hermione touched her cloth covered groin. The thought of Harry being aroused just by her scent was driving her mad.

Suddenly, the door to her flat burst open with a bang. Ron stormed in followed by two M. L. E. officers. The shortest of the group waved his wand and Hermione felt a slight pressure descend on her, clearly an Anti-Apparition Charm.

"What the fuck are you doing in my home?" Hermione shouted. "Get the hell out of here!"

In the bedroom, Harry began to make his way to the parlor. He knew it wasn't Death Eaters that had forced their way in. If the intruders were Voldemort's followers, Hermione would've immediately started yelling hexes. Regardless, Harry felt he had to help Hermione. However, due to his still weakened state, he had to move slowly.

"Hermione Jane Granger, you are under arrest for willfully placing another magical person in mortal danger," one of the officers said.

"What the hell are you on about?" she demanded. Hermione wanted very much to rush up to Ron and dig her fingernails into the tender flesh of his cheeks and rip his skin off.

"When you sicced those Muggles on me," Ron answered smugly. "That was against the law and I'm sending you to Azkaban where you belong."

Harry tilted his head out of the bedroom. He had heard Ron's voice. A part of him hoped he had misheard the red haired wizard and he had not just threatened Hermione. Sadly, he was wrong.

"You must be joking," Hermione said. An urge to drive her knee so hard and fast into Ron's manhood that her leg would go numb from the blow sorely tempted Hermione.

"No, it's high time that I pay you back for what you did to me," Ron stated boldly.

"What I did to you?" she asked incredulously. The anger of having her rapist accuse her of a crime made Hermione's blood boil. Her hands shook with rage.

"Yeah, remember, you tried to get me chucked into Azkaban," Ron snapped, "accused me of rape, even though you were fucking begging for it the whole time."

In a snap second, Hermione's blood chilled. She turned back to her bedroom and saw the faint outline of Harry's Disillusioned head in the open doorway. Not only didn't she want him to find out this way, but she was certain Harry was enraged. And in his weakened condition, Hermione knew it wouldn't be good for Harry to get worked up. She saw the blur begin to move.

"No, don't," she implored the transparent Harry.

"Who are you talking to?" one of Ron's associates asked.

Harry felt bile burning his throat. _Rape!_ Ron had raped Hermione. A part of him knew what had to have happened when he realized Ron had hurt her, but he wanted to deny it. The thought was too appalling to consider.

Now, as Ron stood there, threatening Hermione, Harry felt fire in his veins. Not only had Ron forced himself on Hermione, he was now threatening her. Ron had to be put in his place. He deserved to be punished.

Instinctively, Harry tapped into the power offered by the demon. Harry dropped his cane and sprinted at the three wizards. He reached them in the blink of an eye. Like a bolt of lightning, Harry threw his fist, striking the wizard to Ron's left in the face. He could feel the wizard's bones crumple beneath his fist like the shell of a fragile egg. As that wizard started to fall backwards, Harry reached out and grabbed the other unknown wizard around his shoulder and threw him into the air.

Ron had no time to register what was happening. First Stevens' face was crushed and then Bagshot was flying through the air like a rag doll. His body crashed into the wall head first and slid down, leaving a thick trail of blood. Then Ron felt something wrap around his neck like a vice.

Harry squeezed his hands around his old friend's neck. He wanted to crush his throat, to feel Ron's veins rupture and bones crumble in his hands. Ron hurt Hermione in an unimaginable way. The son of a bitch destroyed her trust and raped her. He had to pay.

Ron tried to gasp, but the hands contracting his airway stopped any air from reaching his lungs. Desperately, Ron tried to pry the hands off of his neck but it was futile. It was as if they were made of stone they were so rigid. Ron started to black out and felt the hands compress even more around his neck.

Hermione watched as the transparent form of Harry strangled her rapist. She found herself wanting to cheer Harry on and shout_ "Break that fucker's neck!" _But she realized Harry was still weak and this exertion may hurt him. And she didn't want that. She walked up to Harry and placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Stop it, Harry. He's not worth it," she said softly.

"Oh, but he is," Harry said with a growl. Images flooded his mind, had Ron punched Hermione? Had she begged him to stop? Did he laugh while he violated her? But in a way, Hermione was correct: Ron wasn't worth strangling, if only because it was too good for him. Harry had wanted to hurt him over a long period of time. To pay him back in kind for the suffering he had caused Hermione. Harry wanted to slam his fist into Ron's face, time and time again. He wanted to rip off the fuckers genitals off, to take away the thing he had used to violate Hermione. He desired to shove that same destroyed organ into the bastard's mouth, and force him to swallow it down.

As these feelings of rage and hatred washed over Harry, he could sense the thing in his belly, the Pryapux Demon lurking somewhere with in him, well up. As if it was egging him on, prompting that Harry should hurt Ron even more. It wanted to have Harry pummel and savagely beat Ron. Harry got the notion the demon was trying to take control. That it would beat Ron if Harry didn't.

Pushing the demon back down, Harry returned to strangling his former friend. He truly did want the fucker to suffer, but he would settle on snapping the shite's neck like a twig.

However, as he continued to squeeze, Harry felt his energy fade from exhaustion. Harry's knees gave out and he pitched backwards. His head was reeling wildly.

Hermione caught Harry in her arms as he tumbled backward. His greater weight sent both of them to the ground. She could feel him tremble slightly in her hands. Looking up, she saw Ron begin to stir. Her rapist's head was rolling back and forth, clearly trying to force himself to stay awake. The witch whipped out her wand and shouted _"ATTINGO!"_

Unlike the previous time Hermione hit Ron with the Clubbing Hex, she hadn't focused all her emotions into it. This time, instead of blasting Ron across the room, she had only struck him with enough force to knock him unconscious. Hermione wanted to do more damage to Ron, but she could feel Harry begin to grow cold. She needed to get her friend to the safety of the hut.

Because of the Anti-Apparition ward on her, Hermione had to create a Portkey. She tapped a nearby chair and incanted _"Portus." _ A few seconds later, with Harry wrapped tightly in one arm, she reached out and touched the Portkey. She and her friend landed on the floor of the hut.

She canceled the Disillusionment Charm on Harry to get a proper look at him. Her friend was pale, and sweat poured off his skin. The young wizard's eyes were heavy and tired. She performed a Diagnostic Charm and discovered that nothing was wrong with him beyond extreme exhaustion. As if he had just run a marathon. No lasting damage was done by Harry's rash actions.

"You over-exerted yourself," concluded Hermione.

"Yeah, but it was worth it," Harry said.

Hermione waved her wand again, this time levitating Harry over to the bed.

"I have to go fetch Susan. You need to feed," Hermione said. Regardless of the fact venturing into the Ministry building was very dangerous — clearly the M. L. E. would be looking for her, even more so now, after the attacks on the three Aurors — Hermione had to get Susan so Harry could regain his strength.

"Why?" Harry asked simply.

"Susan bonded with you. You need to feed," Hermione repeated.

Instead of speaking, Harry held out his open hand to Hermione. The brunette paused; clearly Harry wanted her to join him in bed. She shook her head.

"Hermione, I need you," he began. "More than just for sustenance, I need you to be with me. I want you to be with me."

Again, Hermione shook her head.

"And I know you need me too," he stated.

Hermione looked deeply into his eyes and saw he, unlike Ron, would never betray her, never hurt her. She also saw love and affection, much like when she would look into Daphne's eyes. And Harry's eyes told Hermione he was right; she did want him. It wasn't just the demon aspect made her want to be with Harry. She wanted to be with her best friend, the wizard who trusted her and loved her completely and her for him. She knew she wanted to share herself with him, not just for intimacy or lust; rather she needed him in her life, every facet of it.

The world slipped away. She reached out and took his hand. With her eyes wide open, Hermione moved to the bed and lay on top of Harry, pressing her body along the length of his. He kissed her. His lips were soft, yet strong – they held a gentle strength. Hermione gave in and let the feeling of Harry's lips on her wash over her body. Almost instantly, she began to burn. It wasn't only the demon aspect; not just a physical need. This burn went far deeper and more encompassing, like it was part of her soul.

If Harry had just wanted to regain his strength and feed, he could've easily waited for Susan. He wasn't nearly as weak as he was a few days ago, he doubted he could walk, but he still could move. This was for Hermione; he wanted to show her he loved and needed her. And to help repair some of the harm Ron had inflicted.

Hermione felt his organ grow and swell. It pressed against her body. Her sex tightened. The witch's own body was imploring her to continue.

Harry ground his hips into Hermione, pressing his growing erection against her. Hermione reciprocated, rubbing her cloth covered labia against his large bulge.

Almost frantically, Hermione tugged down Harry's trousers. While still kissing Harry hungrily, she took hold of his meat and gave it a squeeze. He moaned into her mouth and hardened even more in her grip. The heat coming from his organ made her hand warm. Slowly, she guided his penis between her legs. The brunette pressed it to her knickers and began to rub herself with his rod. The heat of his cock blended with her own wet fire. She pushed it against her labia and massaged her clit through her knickers. Her wetness began to spread, coating the inside of her underwear while his pre-cum painted the outside.

"Oh, God, Hermione," he panted. Hermione took hold of his bottom lip between her teeth and tugged slightly. His hands fumbled with her knickers, pulling them down in a series of jerks. Hermione paused momentarily in her own activities, to aid Harry in the removal of her underwear. Once her nether region was naked, Hermione returned to rubbing his spongy crown against her naked flower. His crown parted her lips a fraction and her wetness coated his head.

Harry kneaded her bottom, mashing her soft mounds between his long fingers. The witch groaned. He took that as his cue to move ahead. Using the little strength he had, Harry rolled over so that he was now lying on top of Hermione. He propped himself up on unsteady arms and looked down at her. Just as he predicted, Hermione screwed her eyes shut in preparation for his entrance.

"Hermione, open your eyes," he requested as he reached down to take hold of his manhood. "Look at me."

She hadn't realized she had closed them. Under her burning desire, Hermione sensed she was still frightened. She was involuntarily recalling what Ron had done to her. How he beat her. How he raped her. Harry's weight reminded her of Ron on top of her. With tears in her eyes, she looked up at Harry.

"I'm not him," he said simply. "I would never do that to you."

Hermione nodded in silent agreement. It was silly of her to equate Harry with her rapist. Harry was kind and loving; it showed in his eyes as he looked down at her. Hermione knew if she would ask Harry to stop, to get off of her, he wouldn't hesitate. She also knew that he would understand. But as she looked deeply into his soulful eyes, she knew she would not ask him to stop. Not ever. She realized she needed this.

"Keep them open," he called for and placed his crown at her womanhood. With a deliberate slowness, Harry began to push in, centimeter by centimeter. Hermione's eyes fluttered, threatening to close when his crown passed by her labia, but Harry repeated his plea, "Please, keep them open. I want to see your eyes looking at me."

Hermione forced her eyes open wide. She gasped aloud as one of the rune stone welts pushed into her. Another bump sent another intense wave of pleasure through her. The third bump of a magic rune and the happy tears welling in her eyes forced Hermione to blink rapidly. Still, Harry inched into her. She moaned once more as he continued to stretch her out, pushing and massaging her inner walls. The witch could feel her love juices dribble out. Finally, Harry had pushed his entire length into her. His pubic hair tickled her engorged clit and intertwined with her own.

"Oh, fuck me," she groaned out. He was simply massive. She had known Harry was well beyond average but she was not prepared for the sensation of it buried in her. It felt like he had filled her up completely.

Harry paused to allow Hermione to adjust. He could feel her muscles work on him, squeezing his sex. The witch's face was flushed and dark. Her mouth was open and her breath came in heavy gasps. But her rich, brown eyes enthralled him the most. They held such passion. Once he was satisfied she was ready, Harry slowly began to move.

As he slowly pumped away, Hermione found herself wanting more of his skin on her. In the heat of passion, they had not gotten fully undressed. Hermione reached under his pullover and pressed her palms on to his chest. His cruel scars were rough on her skin but his heat and feeling of his thundering pulse under her palms made her want more of him. She tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head. The witch leaned up and enveloped one of his nipples while she tore at her own blouse. She tongued his bud as her buttons flew across the room. Frantic to have his skin on hers, Hermione pulled the cups of her bra down just enough to reveal her nipples before wrapping her arms around Harry's torso. She pulled him down and crushed her barely covered bosom against his chest. The feeling of his hair, muscles, and scars against her breasts sent wonderful shivers through her body and made her toes curl. She wound her legs around his waist, begging him to increase his pace. To which Harry gladly agreed.

In a short matter of time, his hips were slapping into hers. Each time one of the many large bumps that covered his shaft popped in or out of Hermione, the witch felt her climax grow and grow. She mewed and felt her belly tighten. Then she erupted. Every single muscle in her body clenched up as her orgasm rocked her.

She was wonderful, the way she was wrapped around him felt perfect. Hermione had her face nuzzled up to the side of his and she moaned loudly while she climaxed. Harry was with his best friend. He felt at home.

As her orgasm subsided, Harry returned to pumping away. A low growl like groan escaped his throat. He was so close.

"Do it, Harry, cum in me," she pleaded. "I want to be yours. Make me your concubine."

Harry increased his thrusting even more. The pressure was intense.

"Look in my eyes, Harry," Hermione implored breathily. "I want to see your eyes when you cum."

Harry leaned up and locked eyes with his best friend. She felt so wonderful and looked so beautiful that he couldn't hold back any longer. He cried out her name and came.

A small electrical current passed over Hermione.

**x**

**x**

"What are you brewing?" Pansy asked as she pushed her hand into her wizard's pants.

"A Sleeping Draught," replied Draco.

"Did shagging me while I slept turn you on so much you want to do it again?" she asked and began to fondle his limp member.

"Oh, yes. Again and again," he said without emotion. He had no intention of doing such a thing. But as long as Pansy thought that was his plan, she would gladly agree to take the potion on a regular basis. And he could finally get some rest.

While he toiled over the potion, Pansy crawled around him and pulled his flaccid organ out. She placed it in her mouth and began to suckle like a babe at her mother's teat. Draco seemed not to notice his lover's lips and tongue working on him. He was too distracted by the potion and what his former mentor had said.

"A _'thug'_?" Draco thought bitterly. How dare Snape say he was nothing more than a mindless weapon? Draco was a Death Eater, not some lowly potion maker hiding in a dungeon like Snape. Draco did his Master's bidding; he caused fear in his Lord's enemies. He even helped the Dark Lord in the ritual. And what was Snape doing? He was busy making potions like some old maid.

Draco knew he was better than Snape. This revelation caused him to smile.

**x**

**x**

Dinner was a fiasco. Not only was Daphne in a sour mood over Martha's crude comments (Hermione's lost job was nothing compared to the old witch's in appropriate remarks about their relationship), but her parents set up the dinner as a ruse to introduce Daphne to an eligible wizard.

"Mum, I don't want to date anybody right now," Daphne argued before the wizard showed up.

"Oh, tosh, you're going to let the good ones slip by you if you wait too long," her mother retorted.

Daphne couldn't tell her parents she was involved. She knew they wouldn't understand her and Hermione's love. So the dark haired witch had to politely sit through a dinner with her folks and a wizard by the name of Hannibal Cobblepot. Daphne had to listen to her mother and father shower unending praise on Cobblepot: "He holds a high and respectable position in his job at the Department of Games and Sports." "Makes a fortune every year practically." "And if you don't mind me saying, he's dead sexy to boot."

Daphne nodded and pretended to be interested. After the meal was over, she graciously accepted the offer of a date with Cobblepot; an offer which she would later turn down just as graciously. She knew if she were to have turned the wizard down outright, her parents would object and intercede.

She bid her parents a goodnight and exited their home. As she walked the proper distance away to Apparate, she idly thought of the day she'd be brave enough to bring Hermione to meet her parents.

**x**

**x**

Groaning in pain, Ron struggled to wake up. His neck felt as if it was on fire. Every breath was a struggle for him; the merest intake of air ripped at his throat.

Forcing his eyes open, Ron looked around Granger's flat. Stevens was just a few feet away from him. The M. L. E. officer's chest was slowly rising and falling, showing Ron that his partner was alive but taking in shallow, weak breaths. Ron's other partner had not faired as well. Bagshot's body was crumpled against the wall in a pool of his own blood with his neck twisted unnaturally and his head was lying beneath his back.

Ron knew that he and Stevens needed healing but, sadly, Bagshot was beyond help. Crawling clumsily across the floor on his hands and knees, the red haired wizard grabbed one of the many books that Granger had lying about and took it back to where Stevens was lying. Ron tapped his wand to the book and croaked_ "Portus."_

A few seconds later, he and Stevens were whisked off by the Portkey and taken to St. Mungo's.

**x**

**x**

He had grown soft in her. Hermione felt his erection fade a few moments after he came, but neither of them wanted to pull out. She loved the feeling of him on top and in her as much as he did. The physical connection made both Harry and Hermione feel warm and loved. A short while later, his organ finally slipped out. Both of them instantly missed the feeling of their joining. Harry spent the next quarter of an hour placing light, chaste kisses all over her face and neck.

"Oh, my God," a soft sob came from the doorway. "No... _not you..."_

"Daphne?" asked Hermione in shock and surprise.

"You — you promised!" the dark hair witch said painfully.

Harry moved off of Hermione, and the brunette witch scurried to her lover.

"You promised me!" Daphne repeated as she tugged at fistfuls of her own hair.

"Baby, it's okay," Hermione tried to sooth her crying girlfriend.

"It is not okay!" she snapped and pulled away from Hermione. "YOU TOLD ME YOU WOULDN'T LEAVE ME!"

"I haven't left you," Hermione declared. Tears welled up in her eyes over the pain Daphne was suffering.

"YOU'RE WITH HIM!" Daphne shouted while pointing an accusatory finger at Harry. "I can _fucking_ smell him on you!"

His potent aroma wafted off of Hermione, filling Daphne's nose. The slender witch was panicked that if she looked down at Hermione's lower half she would see it trickling down the inside of her lover's leg. Such tactile evidence of Hermione's infidelity frightened Daphne.

"I love him," Hermione said firmly. Daphne made to turn around and leave the hut, but Hermione grabbed her around the arm and spun her back. "And I love you!"

Hermione held Daphne's face in her hands and reiterated; "I love you. I will never leave you."

"But you were with him," Daphne whimpered. She desperately wanted Hermione to stay with her, but the thought of her lover being with someone else was eating her up.

"Yes, because I love him. And he loves me," Hermione stated and a single tear fell from her eye. "To deny that would be wrong. Just as wrong as if I were to deny my love for you."

Daphne's lips quivered sadly. She looked between Hermione and Harry apprehensively.

"I won't leave you, baby. Not now, not ever," Hermione reaffirmed.

"You want me to _share_ you with him?" Daphne asked, doubting that she could do such a thing.

"You said it yourself: _'love is not a finite thing'_," quoted Hermione. "It can grow and expand without limit."

"Hermione, I was just joking," Daphne whimpered. "I said that to make you upset. I love seeing your nose crinkle disapprovingly."

"Well, regardless of the reason, it's true," Hermione forged on. "I'm living proof that someone can be madly in love with two people at the same time."

Daphne thought hard about what Hermione said. She did love the brunette completely, so letting her go would be extremely painful. But she didn't know if she could bear the thought of her being with Harry.

"You can be with us," Harry suggested.

"You don't get a fucking say in this," Daphne snapped at the wizard. She couldn't handle any insight from him at the moment.

"No, he's right," Hermione said. "Harry's wonderful, Daphne, you've said so yourself. And he needs us to survive."

"So you want me to bond with him so he can munch on my excess magics?" the dark haired witch came back.

"It's not just that," Hermione continued. "Yes, your presence will be beneficial to him. But you'll also grow to love him, I'm positive. I know you; you can love him. And like I said, your love will grow and grow. And we can be together, forever."

"I..." she began. Daphne did find Harry attractive, not just physically, but emotionally as well. "I don't know."

Hermione traced her finger around Daphne's lips and spoke, "You could be with Susan too."

Daphne's attention snapped back to Hermione.

"I can feel her, you know," Hermione said, still drawing a line around her lover's mouth with her fingertips. "Through the bond, I can sense her. She's doing something rather dull, probably paperwork."

"That's... that's silly. I don't want to be with her anymore. I told you that," Daphne lied again, hoping that she would believe herself this time. She was frightened Hermione was laying a trap; lure Daphne out with the promise of the busty red haired witch only to accuse her of infidelity.

Smiling, Hermione placed her forefinger on Daphne's lips. "I would love to see you and Susan together."

Daphne's heart began to race.

"Then I would join the two of you," Hermione added. "And then Harry would as well."

Daphne almost fainted as her desire spiked. The thought of all four being together made her dizzy and a little frightened.

"I have to leave," sobbed Daphne. "I can't handle this."

The dark haired witch pulled away from her girlfriend and walked out of the hut. Hermione made to follow her, but Daphne closed the door of the hut. Daphne had every intention of Aparating away, but the moment she two steps the witch's knees gave way and she collapsed to the ground. Sobs wrenched her body.

Tears of guilt and pain poured down Hermione's face as she heard her lover sob. "I should've realized she was going to show up," she lamented. "I knew she could've walked in on us. Oh God, what have I done?"

Harry slipped on his pants and said "Let me talk to her."

"Harry, I really don't think that's a good idea," moaned Hermione.

Walking slowly to the door, Harry said "I know, but it has to be done."

"Let me come with," the brunette said and wiped the tears from her eyes. She walked to the bed to fetch her clothes.

"I don't think that we should both go," he stated. "It may seem like we were ganging up on her and she'd reacted badly."

"But Harry, I'm her girlfriend," Hermione said as the tears continued to flow. "I should be there for her."

"Don't worry I have a plan," he said. "If it doesn't work, then you can talk to her."

With that Harry walked out the door. He sat next to Daphne.

"I really don't want to talk," Daphne sniffed angrily, "especially to you."

"Well too bad," Harry said. "I'm going to talk and you're going to listen."

The dark haired witch huffed and stood up. She began to walk away for him with her body still trembling. She was so angry and hurt and she couldn't bear to be by the man who took her lover.

"You can't leave," stated Harry.

"Oh, yeah? Watch me," she threatened.

"You can't Apparate in your condition and the moment you pass the protection of the hut, the Acromantulas will attack," Harry pointed out. "So that means you have to stay."

She stopped walking. Realizing he was right, Daphne put her face in her hands and cried.

"Why don't you sit by me," he requested.

"Are you going to try and convince me to part of your growing harem?" she asked crossly.

"I'd rather not think of it as that, but, essentially, yes I am," he answered honestly.

"You can't just stop at taking Susan; my best friend, and Hermione; the woman I love, and now you want me," she said as the tears continued to burn her eyes.

"Basically, I need Hermione. Even if I didn't have this damn demon in me, I'd still need her. She's been my best friend for years and I finally realized she means so much more than that," he explained. "And Hermione needs you. She loves you truly and deeply. And since I need her and she needs you, that means I need you."

"What am I; some kind of package deal?" Daphne asked as she stared daggers at him. "Since you bagged my girlfriend that means I have to tag along too?"

"I never meant it like that," he said calmly. "I know you're upset."

"Damn right I'm upset!" snapped Daphne. "I just walked in on my lover lying under you after you fucked her!"

"And you're jealous," Harry said.

"What the fuck do you think, huh?" she snarled. "Of course I'm jealous!"

"Of whom?" he asked. "Who are you jealous of? And why are you jealous?"

Daphne whipped her head around and was ready to shout the answer. But then, when she opened her mouth, she found that the answer wasn't as simple as she had thought or hoped.

"You're jealous of me, because I have Hermione," Harry said calmly. "I also have Susan. But you're also jealous of Hermione because she has me and through me, she can have Susan, too."

Daphne tried to deny it, to fight the truth. The witch's lip quivered as she struggled. Unconsciously, she wrung her hands.

"You're jealous because you want what Hermione has," concluded Harry.

"I admit I'm still in love with Susan and I want to be with her. A part of me is delusional enough to think she, Hermione and I can be together," she said with some difficulty. "But I don't know about you. You're good looking and an all around great bloke, but I'm not in love with you."

"Hermione and I are the opposite sides of the same coin. We share many of the same beliefs, outlooks, and passions. If you love her it would only be natural to love me," he explained.

"And what about your feelings for me; am I nothing more than another concubine to feed off of?" she asked apprehensively.

"Since Hermione and I are so alike, it's safe to assume that I'll fall in love with you just like she did," he said genuinely.

"And Susan, do you love her, too?" Daphne asked.

"Who couldn't fall in love with her," he replied with a smile that warmed the dark haired witch.

Daphne snorted a laugh and wiped the tears her cheeks. "That's true."

Harry held out his hand to Daphne.

"I'm not going to regret this, am I?" she asked, still anxious.

"I promise," he assured her.

She took a breath to try and compose herself before taking his hand. Harry led her back into the hut.

Hermione looked at her lover with pleading eyes. Daphne silently replied by nodding her head. A smile grew on Hermione's lips and she walked up to Daphne. The two kissed. Hermione's fingers slid from her lover's face, down to Daphne's blouse, and slowly began unbuttoning it. "Let me get you ready."

It took only a few moments for Hermione to undress herself and Daphne. As the brunette kissed and suckled her lover's small breasts, Daphne locked eyes with Harry. He was watching the couple intently. It wasn't obscene; he watched with adoration and affection. Then Hermione knelt in front of her and began working on her womanhood. Daphne ran her fingers through Hermione's hair while still watching Harry. Slowly, she saw him become aroused. The familiar large tent in his trousers rose up. The sight of it made her even more excited.

Once she was good and wet, the three moved to the bed. The witches lay next to Harry. Hermione continued to stimulate Daphne. Harry watched as tiny beads of sweat blossomed all over Daphne's slender body. Instinctively, Daphne reached out and took Harry's hand and gripped it as a wave of pleasure shook her.

"Your turn, lover," Hermione told Harry and she licked her lips. The brunette pushed Daphne's legs wide apart and beckoned Harry to come to her. With his knees still a little weak, Harry stood and moved to stand between Daphne's legs. The wizard knelt down and Hermione took his organ in her hands. Holding her breath in excitement, Hermione played out a fantasy she had recently developed. She slowly guided his large member into her girlfriend. Daphne gasped as his crown pushed into her. Hermione watched in wonder as it slid in. Every vein and bump amazed her as it disappeared into her girlfriend's vagina.

"Oh, fuck!" Daphne exclaimed when he successfully buried himself into her. Again, Harry gave the witch time to become accustomed. However, Hermione did not. The brunette reached for her girlfriend's clitoris and began to massage the small bud. Harry groaned as he felt Daphne's muscles twitch around his organ.

"Shag her, Harry," Hermione called and bit her lip. "Make her cum for me."

He leaned down and passionately kissed Hermione before submitting to her request. In a matter of seconds, Daphne was almost screaming, thanks to Hermione's fingers and Harry's organ.

Daphne's clit was pinched between Hermione's fingertips and one of the rune stones in Harry's shaft with each thrust. Every time the lump hit her clit, the witch cried out in ecstasy.

"Does it feel good, baby?" Hermione asked the witch, tweaking Daphne's nipple with her free hand.

"Oh God yes!"

"You're about to cum, aren't you, baby?" the brunette asked, recognizing the telltale signs. "You're going to cum for me. For Harry."

Daphne didn't respond in words. But every muscle in her body suddenly tensed up. Her skin burned a bright red and she hiss a long breath out between her clenched teeth. Harry felt her clamp down around him and he slowed his pace, allowing her to ride out her orgasm. But again, Hermione didn't let her lover rest. Daphne's orgasm only seemed to encourage Hermione to rub the inflamed bud and taut nipples even more.

Harry continued to move in and out of the petite witch after she had regained her breath. Hermione, while still stimulating Daphne, looked up longingly at Harry. The wizard leaned down once more and kissed her again. At first, it proved more difficult than before, since Harry was pumping into Daphne this time. But Harry forced himself past any discomfort. His tongue slid across her lips and she opened her mouth. He could taste Daphne on her lips and tongue. Their tongues played while another orgasm built in Daphne.

Her body was turning red again, and judging by her previous reaction, Harry assumed she was going to climax again. He leaned down and kissed Daphne hard. His teeth scrapped against hers as their tongues pushed and played with each other. After a moment, he leaned back up; a thin string of spittle connected their lips for a moment before breaking.

"Kiss me, Hermione," Daphne pleaded after licking her and Harry's spit from her lips. The brunette moved so that she could place her lips to Daphne's. The slender witch cried out into Hermione's mouth as her orgasm struck. Her inner walls clamped down again, this time sending Harry over the edge. With a grunt, he came.

Hermione knew what it felt like for Harry through their bond. The witch could feel how good Daphne's cunt felt, wrapped around his willy as he shagged her. She could feel the ring of muscles at the base of his penis contract and spasm as he came. She felt his semen flow through his urethra and into Daphne. It made Hermione shutter in pleasure.

Daphne let the bizarre sensations roll over her. She could now feel Harry and feel how satisfied he was. She could sense Hermione, who was filled with curiosity and desire. And Daphne could sense Susan, far off, accepting Daphne and Hermione were with Harry now. The new feeling, combined with her own sexual excitement, drove Daphne to want more. She looked up at Hermione and begged with her eyes for a kiss. She needed her lover's lips on her own.

Hermione saw the pleading look in Daphne's eyes. She reached between Harry and Daphne and gently pulled his organ out of the witch. The two's love juice was dripping from his rod. The brunette opened her mouth wide and engulfed Harry's still rigid member into her mouth. Harry's seed and Daphne's wetness mingled on Hermione's tongue and lips. She rolled her tongue over his manhood, lapping up the mess, and savoring their combined flavors. Harry gritted his teeth; he was so sensitive from his climax, making Hermione's mouth feel that much more wonderful.

Once she was satisfied that she had picked up every bit of fluid on Harry's member, Hermione pulled herself away and dove on top of Daphne. The brunette finally fulfilled Daphne's wish and kissed her. Hermione's cum and pussy juice covered tongue rolled over Daphne's lips and tongue. Harry watched as the two witches kissed passionately, passing the liquid between each other. Both of their lips had a thin film of his seed and it sent shivers up his spine.

**x**

**x**

While Susan worked on a stack of meaningless paperwork, she felt Harry become enraged. She could feel the anger burn through him. But as quickly as it came, the rage subsided. Then, a few moments after his rage, Susan felt Harry's arousal. Susan became wet at the thought of his erect member. Through her connection, she felt Harry ejaculate. Another odd sensation came to Susan shortly after that; she could feel Hermione. Susan wasn't able to discern how she knew it, but she could somehow tell Hermione had bonded with Harry.

Susan became perplexed. She was not bothered in the slightest Harry had just had sex with Hermione. She reasoned it was probably the effects of the demon quelling her innate jealously. But beyond that, she also knew a part of her was glad Hermione had bonded with Harry; she loved the brunette witch dearly and was happy to share Harry with her. Another part of her jokingly reasoned Harry, whose virility and stamina had greatly increased the past few days, needed another witch or he'd wear the red head down with his sexual appetite.

Less than a half hour later, Susan felt Daphne join. And she smiled. She felt oddly complete.

An hour later, her shift was over and Susan Apparated to the hut. She walked in on a naked Harry watching Daphne and Hermione make love. Susan consciously looked away from the two witches on the bed and waved at Harry.

The wizard got up and walked over to the red head. "You are woefully overdressed, Miss Bones," he said playfully. "I'm going to have to insist that you remove those pesky clothes right now."

"You can't be ready to go at it again. Not after cumming twice such a short time ago," Susan said while Harry pulled her robes open.

"I'm not," he admitted, discarding her garment to the floor. "But that doesn't mean I can't pleasure my witch."

"Oh, what do you have in mind?" she asked eagerly while he unbuttoned her blouse.

"Well, my fingers aren't tired."

Once he had stripped her, Harry took his place behind Susan. He draped his arms around her and began playing with her breast and her folds. He positioned himself and Susan so they were facing the two witches making love on the bed a few feet away. Susan began to look away, but Harry reached up and held her face in place.

"Harry, no," she pleaded. "You can watch them, but I don't get off on witch on witch action."

"Why not?" he asked and thumbed her clitoris.

Susan shuttered and tried to look away.

"Look at them," Harry whispered. "They're beautiful. They love each other and we should cherish that, not look away because we're not into it."

He deftly slid a finger into her wet cunny as a moan came from Daphne. Clearly Hermione was about to bring her lover to orgasm. Susan's face heated up even more; this time however, it was not caused by embarrassment.

"Watch, Daphne's about to cum," Harry said softly into Susan's ear, flicking her tender bud again. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Susan nodded. Harry rewarded her by sliding another finger in. Like before, Harry's fingers caused a heightened reaction out of Susan. In a short matter of time, the buxom red head was bent over, half lying on a table, while Harry pumped his fingers in and out with one hand. He was gently holding her head in the other so she was looking directly at Daphne and Hermione making love.

The three witches' cries of ecstasy and pleasure filled the hut. And Harry felt the beast in him feed off of the three witches. It was like a banquet for the demon.

**x**

**x**

The chilly night air woke Hermione up, the sweat that still clung to her body made the air even more brisk. She had been asleep with her head on Daphne's taut belly, her hand resting only a few inches away from Susan's fingertips. She recalled looking up from her lover's sex before she became too exhausted to even stay awake to see Harry fingering Susan from behind. Obviously, after Susan had fallen asleep, Harry had laid her down on the bed with the other two witches.

Looking around, Hermione found her best friend standing, still naked, in the open doorway. Harry's scars seemed to glow in the silvery moonlight.

After standing up and as gently and silently as she could, Hermione conjured blankets to cover the other two nude witches. With goose-flesh prickling her skin, Hermione padded over to Harry. She wrapped her arms around his chest and pressed her body against his, basking in his warmth.

He had gain even more weight in just the past few hours. The wizard was at least twenty pounds heavier with strong muscles then before he was abducted by Voldemort. Hermione nuzzled her face into his chest, letting his scarred flesh and nipple tickle her brow, nose and cheeks, and she breathed in his scent.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered.

"No, thank you," Harry said earnestly.

"I'm serious," she continued. "You were wonderful, and not just on a physical aspect... which was amazing, I must say," she felt him heat up at her compliment. "But also on a spiritual level as well. You made me feel marvelous in my heart."

"You deserve nothing less," Harry said and leaned down to kiss her softly.

"And thank you for bringing Daphne in with us," she added. "She means the world to me and I couldn't bear to be without her."

"Now, there, I'll have to thank you," Harry retorted.

"You like her?" she asked with a proud smile.

"Of course I do. Daphne's gorgeous and loving," he replied. "So thank you for letting me share her with you."

"Harry, I have a request," Hermione began bashfully. "Could you... well... could you try and convince Susan to join us."

"Actually, I starting doing that when you and Daphne were making love," Harry said with a grin.

"Thank you, Harry. Susan means a lot to Daphne."

"To be honest, pleasing Daphne wasn't the only reason why I did what I did," he admitted. "It was selfish, but I just wanted to see her with you two."

"You cheeky sod," Hermione playfully chastised.

"I was watching two beautiful witches make love and I thought that it couldn't get better. Then I realized that it could be in fact better. I could watch three beautiful witches make love," Harry said with a chuckle.

"And then you'd join in, right?" she asked with a rosy bloom to her face.

"Of course, it only the gentlemanly thing to do-"

A loud screech coming deep within the castle drew Harry's attention away from his conversation. The Acromantuals were fighting for food once again in the school.

It made his blood burn with anger. Hogwarts was his home and now, monsters had overrun it. Made it a mockery of what it once was. His heart pounded away and he felt the beast in his belly stir. It pushed at him, demanding to be let free and take control. This time, the thing didn't want to feed off of the witches; it wanted to rip and tear things apart... and so did Harry.

"Stay here," Harry told Hermione. He pulled himself away and walked out into the cold night air.

He took five steps away from Hermione and the hut and unleashed the demon.

**To be continued…**


	12. Chapter 12

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Twelve

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and non-consensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major canon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from canon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

Once freed, the demon sprung forth from the pit of Harry's stomach, consuming his body like a raging inferno in an instant. The beast took command over Harry's body and angled forward, so he was lunging to the castle on all fours like a lion sprinting. Hands that were now the size of dustbin lids and tipped with long dagger-like talons, tore into the grassy earth and propelled the demon even faster to the castle.

Hermione gasped; one second Harry was walking briskly toward the castle, the next, a massive manlike-creature stood in his place and was bounding to the demolished building. The beast was at least ten feet tall with leathery, obsidian black skin. Harry's many ritual scars turned a luminescent white, standing out brilliantly against the black body. His torso grew to the size of a barrel and his arms stretched over a meter and a half long. Over four-hundred pounds of bulging and rippling muscles were packed on his massive frame. His face had developed into a short snout with large silvery fangs jutting out of a wide mouth. Long, curving ram-like, silver horns jutted out of either side of his forehead and curled around his large, pointed ears. As the demon bolted to the castle, fine shimmering silver smoke emanating from his talons, teeth, and horns trailed behind him sparkling like a wake in the moonlight. . He looked like a grotesque yet fascinating combination of something out of a madman's nightmare and some ferocious beast forgotten by time. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time.

In a scant matter of seconds, the Pryapux Demon covered the long distance between the hut and the castle like a shot. Entering through the ruined front doors, his claws and talons clicked and scratched the stone floor as he continued to run.

It was as if Harry was an observer sitting in the back of the demon's mind. Even though he had relinquished control to the beast, Harry could feel and sense everything the demon did; the cold stone beneath his hands and feet, the pungent smell of old death, and the sounds of the scores of Acromantulas scurrying all over the castle. Harry could also sense the beast's thoughts and emotions, if one could call the base feelings the Pryapux Demon experienced such things. The beast was the embodiment of pure rage and lust. The only thing the demon wanted to do was destroy and kill, to dig his claws and teeth into the shells of the monstrous spiders, and to rend and rip them to pieces. The only thoughts the demon had were simple and direct. There was no finesse or depth to these thoughts; he wanted to quench his lust and rage by any means necessary as quickly and as brutally as he could.

Since Harry wanted the monsters that had destroyed the school to be destroyed, he gladly let the demon have control and had no issue with the beast satisfying this destructive lust that flowed through his veins.

The demon raised his head high into the air and sniffed. His large, pointed ears twitched, taking in all the smells and sounds in the castle. He could hear and smell the monsters all over the castle. A number of small packs of Acromantulas were scattered about the building, but a large group of the giant spiders were located in the dark, dank dungeons. Harry observed as the demon made his way down into the bowels of the ancient structure.

**x**

**x**

Inside the hut, the two sleeping witches woke with a start. They each felt him change from his human form and into the demon; the sensation of his body growing and the mad lust in the demon raised them from their slumber instantly. Unmindful of their naked state, Daphne and Susan followed the slight tugging sensation that guided them out of the hut and joined Hermione in the cold night air.

The witches stood shoulder to shoulder, nude in the moonlight, as they intently watched the castle in the distance. Each one could feel both Harry and the demon as if they were simultaneously two separate entities yet still one being. Harry was the demon and the demon was Harry — an odd and unnatural combination of two spirits sharing the same body.

The witches sensed him dashing through the school. And they could feel his lust for revenge. How he wanted to rend and massacre the monsters and bathe in their blood. It was like some sort of overpowering sexual urge pulsing away in his loins. The three shivered, but not because of the cold night air. The same lust that flowed through Harry and the demon now ran through them. Their skin prickled and nipples hardened. Their hearts fluttered and they quivered. They knew it was the magical bond with Harry that caused their unusual state, but they didn't care. The three let the overwhelming waves of arousal and lust wash over them.

**x**

**x**

There was no light in the lower floors of the castle. No torches were lit nor had any of the silvery moonlight filtered down into the dungeons. It was pitch black. Even though his sight was denied, the demon's other senses guided him through the inky darkness easily. Harry knew the demon could tell how far he was away from the walls by the echo of his footfalls and the smell of mold clinging to the stones. He could also gauge distance by the walls and floor by smelling the blood that coated them. Some of the blood was months old, from when the school fell, and some of the blood was recent, it was spilled with in the last day or two at the most. Harry was able to detect Acromatulas blood mixed in with many other species as well. He assumed that when the monsters grew hungry and could not find suitable prey, they often resorted to cannibalism, turning on one another for food.

A single Acromatula, about four feet wide, crawled out into the hall, obviously drawn out of its hiding place by the sound of the demon's approach. As he sped by the spider, the Pryapux slashed at it with a quick swipe of his hand. His talons sliced four deep gouges through the spider's body. Blood and guts exploded out of the wounds, spraying the walls, ceiling and floor. The giant spider didn't even have time to scream.

Harry observed through the demons senses as he rushed to the Potions Lab, where a group of spiders were. He could feel the remains of the shattered door brush against the demon's shoulder as he slid through the ruined doorway. Without hesitation, the Pryapux pounced on the two spiders closest to him. Opening his jaw wide, the demon savagely bit down on one Acromantula's head, crushing it in his jaws. The monster's brain, eyes and blood erupted and poured into his mouth and splashed over his leathery skin. A second spider fell when the demon brought down his fist like a massive sledgehammer upon its body, smashing it into pieces.

The other Acromantulas gathered in the room quickly attacked the demon. As the wave of giant spiders charged, the beast held his long arms wide open, as if not only welcoming their challenge but mocking the threat they posed.

The Pryapux was a blur of motion; he kicked, slashed, and bit with abandon. The bodies of the Acromatulas were crushed, mashed, and split open with his hands and feet and shells were shattered in his jaws. In a few seconds, Harry felt the demons skin become awash in gore. Great globs of guts clung to his flesh and blood poured down like rain. It felt as if it was cleansing; to wash his body with the blood of the monsters that had slaughtered the innocent children of Hogwarts.

A sweeping blow from his left arm sent three monsters rocketing into the stone wall; the Acromatulas' bodies were ground to a pulp by the impact. The demon racked his teeth across the abdomen of a spider that had tried to drop down on top of him from the ceiling, ripping open its belly — the monster's black blood and intestines splashed down the demon's chest and throat. He gripped another two spiders, his strong, talon-tipped fingers punching holes in the shells, and used them as impromptu cudgels; smashing them into other Acromantulas.

One monster, the largest of the pack — the size of a small car — was able to sink one of its fangs into the demon's arm. The demon yanked the fang out of his arm and snapped it out of the spider's jaw only to use it as a makeshift knife, plunging it into the beast's head. The Acromatula's poison fizzled and bubbled out of the wound in the demon's arm. Harry could feel a sight burning sensation filling his limb. Somehow, Harry knew instinctually that one bite from an Acromantula was not dangerous to him, but several may be fatal. Considering the short work the demon was making of the Acromantulas, Harry did not fear this outcome.

A dozen more spiders were torn apart in the next few seconds. In a short matter of time, the Pryapux was standing on a hill of dead spiders. One living Acromantual was buried under the corpse of its brethren — Harry heard it struggling to free itself. He felt the thrill as the demon hoisted the spider out of the bloodied gore and slam his fist through the Acromantula's shell and into its body. The monster's organs were mashed between the demon's fingers and palm as he made a fist. Harry relished the sensation as the spider kicked its many legs in its death throes.

A scraping sound from the corner of the lab drew the demon's attention. Through the demon's heightened senses, Harry heard a crippled spider trying to crawl to safety. Almost casually, the demon strolled up to the injured monster — great chunks of shell and gore dripped from his skin with each step.

"Please, I am young. I have not had the chance to sire any offspring yet. Please, show me pity," the monster dared to beg for mercy as the Pryapux stood over it.

Something akin to a sadistic smile graced the demon's fang-filled mouth. His hands clamped down the sides of the spider to hold it in place like a vise. Then he lowered his head. In a series of rapid chomping motions, he crewed and gnawed at the spider's shell. His jaw moved like the pistons of a steam train firing. The Acromantula screamed in agony as the demon broke through the monster's armor-like shell and ate its intestines.

Thrill and excitement combined with righteous vengeance in Harry as he observed and felt the demon devour the spider. He himself wouldn't have gone so far as to eat the monster, but Harry allowed the demon to do so because it seemed a form of ironic justice to eat the Acromantula; a monster who had undoubtedly feasted on the students that were in the castle.

**x**

**x**

Harry's excitement, the exhilaration of destroying the monsters that had overrun the school, made his concubines shiver. Not only had his righteous fury touched them and made their pulse quicken, but they shared in his lust. Through their bond with him, Hermione, Susan, and Daphne could feel his fingers digging into the monsters, tearing them apart. They could also sense the gore clinging to his body. And they felt his blood flow into his loins and it made each of them ache and shudder. Their shared lust grew more and more intense and powerful with each passing moment.

"Daphne, go and conjure a bath. A large one," Hermione bade her lover. "Harry will need to be washed when he returns."

**x**

**x**

The Pryapux demon was chasing a trio of spiders up the destroyed stairs leading to Gryffindor Tower. Harry had made this trip countless times before as a student, but now he watched as the demon charged after the Acromantulas, leaping over a dozen steps at a time. Even though he was just observing the demon's actions, the thrill of the chase made Harry's heart race. The demon effortlessly leapt over several feet of missing steps and caught hold of the slowest of the three spiders. He casually tossed it into the open stairwell and down a score of flights. The spider screamed in fear, kicking its legs frantically as it fell to its doom.

The other two did not have such an easy death.

One had its shell pried off of its body by the demon's powerful hands as easily as one might shell a peanut. It happened so rapidly that the spider did not notice its shell had been ripped off. It sprinted away from the Pryapux demon while its guts spilled out, leaving its intestines as a horrific trail. After a dozen feet of running, a mushy green organ dangling out of the spider snagged on a piece of rubble. The speed at which the monster was running only caused the spider to rip itself apart.

The next Acromatula was tackled by the Pryapux demon. As the spider struggled, the demon viciously tore off one of its legs. As the Acromantula screeched in pain, the demon raised the severed limb over his head and brought it down like a spear, ramming it into one of the spider's eyes. Another leg was ripped off and was promptly jabbed into another of its multiple eyes. One by one, the demon ripped off a leg and slammed it into its eyes. In a matter of seconds, all eight of the Acromantula's legs had been torn off and each one had been stabbed into an eye. The Acromantula looked like some kind of morbid mockery of itself. With satisfaction, Harry watched through the demon's eyes as the Acromatula slowly died.

**x**

**x**

In St. Mungo's, a Healer poured another potion down Ron's injured throat. This one, unlike the other two he had taken to heal the ruptured blood vessels and bruised throat, was a mild sedative that helped soothe the burning in his neck.

Sergeant Wright was in the corner reading over Ron's report. A Quick Quotes Quill had transcribed the details of the red-haired wizard's account: how when he, Stevens, and Bagshot had tried to apprehend Granger, a Disillusioned figure assaulted them. Because of the injuries to his neck, using his voice had been truly painful for Ron, but he braved the agony to give his report.

"How's Stevens?" asked Ron, his voice cracking painfully. Even with the pain relieving potions, speaking still hurt – but he had to know about his surviving partner's condition.

"Not good. He'll live but he'll need to go through many extensive treatments for a few months," Wright answered, somberly. "Not only were his nose, cheekbones, and eye sockets shattered, Stevens apparently suffered major nerve damage to most of his face. The Healers tell me that Skele-Gro will fix his bones by tomorrow, but the nerve damage is so bad that Stevens probably won't recover fully. It's excessive enough that the Healers believe he might not be able to use his face muscles completely. Eating and speaking will be a chore for him, unfortunately. He'll have difficulty casting verbal charms which means he'll no longer be able to work in the field and be assigned a desk job in the Ministry.

"It seems our mystery man's strength is comparable to a giant's — that would explain the amount of damage he caused Stevens with one blow," Wright commented. "You're both lucky to be alive, Weasley. A little more force and Stevens' brain would've been turned to mush and that bloke could've snapped your neck like a dried twig if he wanted to."

"Yeah, but Bagshot wasn't so lucky though," Ron said sadly.

Wright frowned mournfully. "I have to tell his wife the bad news." The Sergeant patted Ron on the shoulder and said, "Get back on your feet as quickly as you."

As his superior headed out of the room, Ron stated; "We won't let that bitch get away, sir."

Wright nodded his head in agreement and ushered a few members of Ron's family in that had been waiting in the hall. Mafalda rushed at Ron and threw her arms around his bruised neck and sobbed hysterically. His mother copied this action on the other side of his bed. If it hadn't been for the numbing potions the Healers had just given him, Ron would've been in agony with the two witches hugging his injured neck.

"Give the man some air," Arthur said and he gently pulled his wife off of their son.

Ron's pregnant wife lowered her arms so that they were wrapped around his shoulders and she silently cried into the side of his face. Mafalda hated that her husband had such a dangerous job. This incident just reinforced her fears.

"Have they caught whoever did this?" Molly asked, whipping the tears form her face.

"No, they escaped," Ron croaked out.

"Who was it?" an ashen faced Ginny asked. Her brother's near mortal experience had apparently taken a toll on her. "Was it Death Eaters?"

"No, it was Granger and somebody else," he answered.

"Oh God, I just knew that girl was trouble," Molly wailed and her crying started anew. "Remember how she toyed with all those boys' affection during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I told everyone then she was rotten to the core."

"You said that someone was with her, did you recognize them?" Arthur asked.

"No, he was Disillusioned," answered Ron. "But he was strong, incredibly strong. He easily killed one of my partners, practically crippled Stevens and nearly broke my neck."

Ginny's brow furrowed. "This man, the one who attacked you, did he say anything?"

"Yeah, but I was blacking out at the time," Ron said. "I could just hear people talking and I'm assuming it was Granger and the other person. I was so out of it though I'm not really sure if I had just imagined it or not."

**x**

**x**

Hermione watched the castle. She could feel Harry's sense of thrill and accomplishment. His task was nearly finished.

"Go fetch my wand," she told Susan who had been gazing at the school as well. "Then go help Daphne finish the bath. He's almost done."

When Susan left her side, Hermione turned back to the castle. She saw one Acromantula scurry out of a hole in the outer wall and rapidly crawl up one of the only remaining spires of the ruined castle. Clearly, the monster was trying to distance itself and find protection from the demon. Hermione grinned, knowing the vicious spider was about to die.

She could feel him coming before she saw him jump out of the same hole the Acromantula used. The demon climbed the spire without hesitation, using his claws to dig into the stone and mortar. The demon slammed his curved horns into the side of the giant spider, cracking its shell open and knocking it off the spire. But before the Acromantula could plummet to his death, the demon snatched one of its legs. Using his free hand and feet, the demon climbed up to the top of the spire while carrying the Acromantula. Hermione tingled as she watched the Demon pick up the Acromantula over his head and drive it down onto the spire — impaling the monster on the very thing it had sought to save its life. The Pryaprux Demon opened his maw wide and howled triumphantly into the sky.

Hermione licked her lips while the demon crawled down the face of the castle. She could feel that he needed to feed and couldn't wait for him to fest on her. Even from this great distance, Hermione could see the eyes of the demon. Unlike the rest of the beast's body, the demon had retained Harry's beautiful green eyes. She couldn't wait to have those beautiful orbs gaze down upon her as he split her open.

The demon walked slowly toward the hut and his concubines. Harry needed the witches to feed the burning lust that had developed over the course of the massacre and also to recharge his energies. The wizard could sense that the demon wanted to quench that lust as quickly as he could. The beast wanted to pin one of them down, and while still in his monstrous from, pound his hard cock into her while the Acromatula gore dripped off of his body. Harry would not have his witches treated in such a fashion. Yes, he came to realize that Hermione, Daphne, and Susan were his and therefore he needed to show them respect as well as compassion. Befouling his witches in this state — a demon covered in blood and dead meat — was unacceptable.

So as the demon continued to move to the hut, Harry took hold of the beast and pushed it back down into his belly. The wizard could feel the demon struggle — it wanted to remain in control. But the demon lost some of its strength and Harry was able to push the beast back down into his belly. As he did this, Harry felt his body change; his arms shortened, knees and legs reformed, horns retracted, claws and fangs shrunk, skin softened and lightened, and his snout disappeared.

Susan handed Hermione her wand and paused to look at Harry longingly before returning to the hut and preparing the bath for him.

Harry walked through the tall grass to Hermione, naked and dripping with the blood of the monsters he had just slain. His organ was hard as stone — the adrenaline of the battle still coursed through his veins and had made him painfully hard. His manhood swayed and bobbed with each step. He throbbed, aching for release. When he reached Hermione, the demon surged in his belly; it still wanted Harry to push her on the ground and pound his meat in her until he came like it had wanted to do before. But Hermione, and his other witches, deserved far better than to be treated in such a way. So he forced the demon and the foul urges further into the pit of his belly.

Hermione smiled up at Harry with naked lust burning in her eyes. She wanted him, her pride over purging the Acromantulas from the castle blended with her overpowering lust and the witch desired to have him plow her. A part of her knew most of this burning lust had been created by the demon and the bond she shared with Harry. But she felt neither shame nor apprehension in it; she wanted to please him and she wanted to be pleased. Hermione desired him on top and in her; to feel his weight and hot skin on hers as his organ quelled the fire in her womanhood.

Holding the tip of her tongue between her teeth in hopes of staying the need to take him right then in the field; having his filthy hands run over her flesh as she rode him, Hermione waved her wand over Harry, silently casting a simple Cleansing Charm. It effectively removed the gore and muck from his skin, but it did not remove the stench of death. For that, Hermione knew that she would have to give Harry an old fashion bath.

The brunette witch took him by the hand and led Harry back into the hut. His heavy organ pointed toward the ceiling and swung like a metronome. Daphne had transfigured the bed into large tub and was now filled with warm, soapy water. Harry thought with a smile that a more fitting description would be to call it a small wading pool; it was so large that it could easily fit all four people and still allowed plenty of room to move about. Hermione stepped into the tub first and Harry followed. The warm water reached up to his waist. The crown of his erect member jutted out of the water.

As Hermione worked lather out of a bar of soap, Susan and Daphne stepped into the tub. None were embarrassed by their nudity because they were overwhelmed by the desire to be with Harry. This want threw their inhibitions and hesitations to the wind.

The three witches spent the next five minutes washing Harry. Six, small, soft hands worked the lather on him. Their fingers would linger on his lips, buttocks, nipples and hard manhood.

Once he was clean enough, Harry decided it was time to feed his lust. He started by pulling Hermione to him, pressing his body to hers and kissed her deeply. Hermione groaned and opened her mouth, allowing Harry's tongue entrance. His hard manhood twitched between their bodies, begging for more. The wizard reached up and fondled her hand-sized breasts while his tongue danced with hers, their pink organs rolled around in each other's mouths. Hermione ground her body into Harry's, rubbing his solid member on her belly. She could feel the tattoo of his pulse reverberate through his rod and on his skin.

While Hermione continued to rub herself on Harry, the wizard reached out and took hold of Susan by the back of the back of her head. He guided her to him and kissed her. Susan let out a throaty noise when Harry began trailing kisses down her neck. The apprehension of being intimate with Harry while in close proximity to two other witches was not a concern to her at that moment. The magical bond between her and Harry had created such a need in Susan that she blindly begged for ecstasy to claim her. The desire in her was so powerful that she didn't give a damn who watched or even who participated in that ecstasy just as long as she was satisfied.

Daphne, who did not want to be left out, joined Harry on his other side. She leaned up on her toes and began to nibble and kiss his ear. Her tongue trailed the shape of his ear.

Harry's hands slid down from Hermione's mounds and released Susan. His right hand pulled Daphne from his ear and to him, crushing his lips to hers. While his left hand snaked between Hermione's legs to play with her wet, hot flower.

The three witches were overcome with lust; it threw aside the last remnants of their inhibitions and was driving them wild. They wanted to be touched, kissed and made love to. It made them dizzy. So much so that Susan, who had claimed she was not into witches just a few hours before, bent forward and kissed the swell of one of Hermione's breast. The brunette moaned as she was kissed by the red-head and stimulated by Harry.

He was so hard he felt as if he was about to burst. Harry pulled away from Daphne's lips and guided Hermione so that she was leaning backwards over the edge of the tub. The wizard spread her legs apart and slowly pushed his throbbing member into her sensitive folds. Hermione gasped heavily as her labia was nudged open by his large crown and her inner walls were pushed and stretched in wondrous ways. Like before, she had forced her eyes open so that she could look deeply into Harry's beautiful green eyes while he penetrated her.

Daphne remembered how her lover had rubbed her clit when Harry had claimed her. And the black-haired witch wished to return the favor. As Harry slid into Hermione, Daphne reached down and pushed her fingertips onto the brunette's bud and massaged it.

Taking Daphne's idea a bit further, Harry took one of Susan's hands and moved it so it was lying on Hermione's tit. "Massage it," Harry ordered and Susan instantly started to gently squeeze Hermione's breast. The feeling of another witch's breast in her hand sent exciting shivers through Susan's body.

Hermione thought she was going to lose her mind. The sensation of three people working on her was incredible. Harry's manhood pumping away slowly, Daphne's fingers massaging her clit, and Susan rubbing her breast caused a powerful orgasm to build quickly in Hermione.

Harry paused in his motions for a moment; he reached up and took hold of the other two witches by the backs of their heads once more. With gentle force, Harry pulled them so that their faces were a breath's distance apart. Daphne's eyes sparkled as she leaned forward and kissed Susan, the witch of her dreams. Susan let herself become lost in the moment, opened her mouth, and slid her tongue into Daphne. Hermione's heart jumped; her lover's wish had come true. She watched the two witches kiss passionately without any hint of jealously.

The feeling of Hermione wrapped around his organ and watching Daphne and Susan kiss made Harry increase his pace. His gentle pumping turned into eager thrusts. Hermione moaned in ecstasy. She felt her orgasm growing and building like an inferno in the lower part of her belly. Her muscles started to bunch up, clenching hard. Through her bond, she knew how good it felt for Harry to have her muscles contract around and squeeze his member.

Susan and Daphne shuddered as they felt Hermione climax. They could feel the sensation spike up her spine through their shared connection. They felt Harry feed off of her energies as well as their own.

Harry pulled out of Hermione's still quivering womanhood and led his three witches out of the tub. He took his place behind Susan and wrapped his arms around her midsection. The witch yelped in mild surprise as Harry hoisted her up in the air easily as if she weighed as much as a feather. Harry repositioned the red-head so that she was hovering over his erect organ. Eager for what was about to occur, Susan spread her legs and bent her knees back to give him access to her pulsating center. Without being asked, Hermione knelt in front of the two and held Harry's penis in place. As Harry slowly lowered the red-head, Hermione guided his organ through Susan's engorged red lips and into her sex. Susan let out a long shuttering breath as she was impaled on his penis.

Susan yelped again when Daphne latched onto her tit. The black-haired witch licked, nibbled and suckled Susan's nipple hungrily. Another surprised but pleased yelp escaped Susan once more when Hermione placed her lips on the red-head's clitoris. With his other two witches stimulating Susan, Harry started to pump slowly. He pivoted his hips while lifting and lowering the witch slightly, driving his manhood deeper and deeper with each thrust. Hermione ran her tongue up his rod and over Susan's lips and clit, lapping up the juices that flowed out of the buxom witch's sex while Daphne moved her attention to the red-head's other large breast.

Sweat dripped from their bodies. After a short while, they could all feel Susan's orgasm approaching; Harry by her muscles bunching tightly and Hermione and Daphne through the magical connection. Susan cried out in passion when it claimed her.

Harry gently set the red-head down and turned to Daphne. He took the petite witch in his arms. Slowly he lowered himself and Daphne until they were lying on the ground with him on top of her. He guided his wet organ into her sopping womanhood. Hermione and Susan, who were both still yearning for more, busied themselves by kissing both Harry and Daphne.

The dark haired witch was in heaven. Harry's great rod was filling her up and two witches alternated between placing kisses all over her and Harry's faces. She felt Hermione and Susan's orgasms which heightened her own ecstasy that was already rapidly building. Sweat dripped from the tip of Harry's nose and landed on Daphne's lips. She shot her tongue out and savored his salty taste.

All of the witches could feel the pressure building in Harry's loins through their connection. Hermione moved herself down her two lovers' bodies and placed her hands on Harry's scrotum. She began to massage his testicles gently.

The sensation of Harry's growing climax seemed to escalate Daphne's own. She knew the sensation he felt when he came would propel her over the edge. Even before he grunted, his witches felt his sex tighten and his seed leap from his organ and felt Daphne's orgasm. Harry cried out as he continued to pump, shooting one hot stream after another deep into Daphne. The black haired witch's prediction was proven as her cries of ecstasy mingled with Harry's.

Panting, Harry pulled out. Despite spending himself, his organ throbbed and ached; demanding even more. He didn't know if it was the demon wanting to be fed more or just his adrenaline, but he was still hard and needing more. The desire that coursed through him also burned in his witches.

Without saying a word, Harry took Susan by her shoulders and directed her to Daphne's sopping womanhood until the red-head's lips were touching the other witch's discharge coated labia. So overpowered by lust, Susan didn't give a thought to what she was doing as she dove into the act of pleasuring Daphne. The black-haired witch moaned when Susan's tongue parted her nether lips.

Harry turned to Hermione. Her eyes were heavy and dark. Her bosom heaved with each short, rapid breath. Placing his hands on her shoulders much like he did with Susan, he breathed; "I need you."

With a gentle push down, Harry silently told the brunette just _how_ he wanted her. With her eyes lock on his, Hermione lowered herself to her knees. She blinked and looked at his glistening crown, bobbing before her. Opening her lips wide, she took him into her mouth. Moaning, Hermione closed her eyes, relishing the combined flavors of Harry's seed, Susan, Daphne's as well as her own release that coated the wizard's manhood.

**x**

**x**

After Ginny had gone to work, Molly used the Burrow's floo to fire-call Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley to tell them the house was now empty and it was safe to come over.

"I heard Ron's was in St. Mungo's, is he okay?" asked Remus, stepping out of the floo.

"He is now. Someone nearly strangled him," Molly said fretfully. "Ron's lucky though; this person crippled one of his partners and killed the other."

"I heard something about that today at work," stated Kingsley. "Are there any leads as to who did this?"

"Just that Hermione Granger is in league with whoever this person is," informed Arthur.

"Hermione?" asked Remus and Tonks in unison. It was clear by their tones they found this to be highly doubtful.

"I've been telling everyone for years that little witch was no good," Molly said as if she were vindicated in this opinion.

Tonks and Remus were about to challenge this claim and argue Hermione was a decent witch when Kingsley spoke up.

"I hate to change subjects, but we have an important issue to discuss," interrupted Kingsley. "We have a spy in our organization."

"Are you certain we have a spy?" Arthur asked Kingsley as they all sat at the table.

"I've had my suspicions for a while now," announced Kingsley.

Tonks fidgeted in her seat guiltily. The desire to defend Hermione was forgotten. Tonks was now waiting for the black Auror to point an accusatory finger at her and declare that she was the spy.

"First there was the Pro-Muggle Rally a few weeks back. Our sources were reliable. Hell, I would've bet a month's wages that You Know Who would've personally shown up with a massive group of Death Eaters to attack," explained Kingsley.

"You think someone told Voldemort about our plans?" asked Remus.

"Not just our plans, but the plans to have plain-clothes Aurors and M. L. E. officers in the crowd," he answered. "That little bit of information was kept secret; only Aurors like me and Tonks knew about it. And we also discussed this fact with the other Order members."

"And then there was Moody," Arthur offered, clearly still in morning for the wizard. "We all know how cautious he was."

"True, this spy, whoever he is, probably set a trap for Moody," speculated Kingsley. "Which tells me we should look for someone within the Order itself. If it had been an Auror and not an Order member, Moody would've been extra cautious and had me or Remus come along. But I feel the added trust he had for fellow Order members, little as it may have been, led to his death.

"Then Wagner-Frost was attacked by Death Eaters shortly after we had decided to recruit him. This proves to me beyond a doubt the spy is in our ranks," concluded Kingsley. "The timing of our decision to ask Wagner-Frost to join and his assassination is too damn convenient in my mind."

Tonks wanted to fess up, finally confess to the horrible crimes she had been forced to commit and tell everyone that they were actually looking for two spies. One who had leaked the protection of the rally — which had happened before Tonks was _"recruited"_ — and she herself who had betrayed and murdered Moody and practically handed Wagner-Frost to the Death Eaters. But she knew if she confessed her parents and Remus would die horrible deaths. So the young witch held her tongue.

"Who could it be?" asked Arthur.

"I honestly don't know," Kingsley said. "It could be anyone, really. A mole, a Death Eater using polyjuice to look like someone else, or dozens of other possibilities."

"We should start investigating quietly," suggested Remus. "If we show our hand, the spy might run and we want to capture this bastard."

All five members nodded their heads in agreement, including Tonks. This other spy was more of a threat to her than the other Order members. Because this spy was watching Tonks and if they reported suspicious activity from the young witch, Tonks' parents would be tortured or killed. Tonks came to the conclusion if this spy was dealt with, either removed or killed, she could quietly get help from the other Order members and hopefully free her mother and father from Voldemort's clutches. So it benefited Tonks to help find this spy for her own salvation more than the protection of the Order.

As her fellow Order members were lost in thoughts of their own as to whom this spy was, Tonks mulled over possible suspects. She immediately discounted Remus, Kingsley, and all the Weasleys as possibilities. In her mind, they were all completely trustworthy and beyond reproach. Then again, she used to think of herself in the same way before Voldemort kidnapped her parents. However, Tonks doubted any of her friends and peers had suffered such a fate. Therefore, she stuck with her original assumption and discounted them as possible suspects. As she thought about the handful of other Order members, one name stood out:

Martha Patterson.

Tonks recalled how Martha had joined shortly after Dumbledore's murder and ever since then, Martha had done nothing but undermine and question everything the Order did. She tried to stop the Order from protecting the Pro-Muggle rally; perhaps she had done this because she knew for a fact Voldemort was planning on attacking and didn't want to get caught in the crossfire? And had Voldemort called off the attack as to not lose his invaluable spy in the battle? Martha voted against Remus becoming the head of the Order. Tonks had voted against her lover in hopes of saving his life whereas Martha did so simply because he was a werewolf; a sure sign of the ideology that many pure-bloods bigots and Death Eaters support.

Taking her thoughts back to when Martha had joined the Order, Tonks came to realize it was the same time that Snape, Voldemort's former spy, had left the Order as well. Tonks thought such a thing was too convenient to be coincidental. Voldemort must have positioned Martha to join the Order to replace Snape.

The young Auror concluded Martha had to be the spy. She was positive. Not only was Martha the one handing vital information over Voldemort, but she was also keeping an eye on Tonks.

This was clearly a problem for the young witch. If she told Remus and Kingsley about her discovery of Martha, they would undoubtedly arrest and then question the spy. If they did that, the wizards would find out that one of Martha's duties included watching the other spy; Tonks.

Unfortunately, she couldn't tell anyone about this discovery for another reason; many of the Order members tended to babble excessively — especially Molly. It was a very distinct and dangerous possibility that Tonks' revelation of Martha's true loyalties might get back to the bitch and she'd have a chance to alert Voldemort before she could be dealt with. This meant the evil wizard and his minions would retaliate against Tonks by killing her parents.

No, Tonks realized the less people knew about Martha and her betrayal the better. The Auror set her mind to dealing with Martha and the threat she posed, not only to the Order but to Tonks herself, alone.

**x**

**x**

According to Argyle Wright and many of his peers, notifying the next of kin that their loved one had died in the line of duty was, by far, the worst job in the world. Just two hours before, he had to tell Esther Bagshot that her husband, Reginald, had been killed. The woman sobbed for a good half hour and Wright sat with her and helped her with this burden as he felt was his duty. It was his responsibility to help Reginald's widow with her grief. When she woke her eight year old boy and told him the horrible news, Wright felt as if his heart was torn out. The boy screamed at the older wizard and blamed him for taking his daddy away.

So, after the necessary yet dreadful task had been completed, Wright headed straight to his home and quickly opened a bottle of fire-whisky. The wizard's wife was on a holiday and their children were grown and had families of their own, so Wright had the house to himself and would not be disturbed while he drowned his sorrows.

His first sip of the whisky tasted a little off, a touch sweeter than it normally did. But he needed to numb his pain quickly and decided to ignore the slightly odd taste.

Wright was not what some might call a _"hard-drinking man,"_ but he could hold his liquor. So it was fairly strange that he passed out after only his third sip of whisky.

A moment after the nearly half full glass of alcohol dropped from his hand and spilled on the rug, a witch walked out from her hiding place in the hall cupboard. Casually, the witch strolled up to Wright's unconscious form. She placed the tip of her wand to the back of his head and incanted: "_Imperio!"_

**x**

**x**

In the dead of night, Johan Blaor headed to the filthy Muggle ally where he had secretly met Minister Godfrey once more. This time, the Minister, wearing dirty rags in disguise, was already waiting for him.

"What news," Godfrey asked.

"It is done, sir," Blaor answered proudly. "I have just returned from the last water treatment plant in Great Britain. Some of the weaker Muggles will be affected by my potion in as little as two days, but all Muggles will be altered in a week."

"Fantastic," Godfrey heralded. "Magical folk will be safe from the Muggle threat thanks to you, Johan. Instead of wasting our time worrying what the foolish Muggles might do to us, we can now concentrate on You Know Who and his minions and wipe them out."

Blaor beamed with pride. He and his potion had successfully saved magical folk.

"Now you must hide yourself," warned Godfrey. "There are some members of the Wizengamot that are nothing more than narrow minded fools. Once they find out what we have done, they'll come searching for us. Being the Minister, I can protect myself. But you, Johan, they'll tear you apart."

"Let them do their worst," Blaor said confidently. "History will judge me a hero."

"A stint in Azkaban might dampen your righteous resolve, my friend," the Minister for Magic retorted. "Besides, I have plans for you and your assistants that will not only protect you from Muggle-loving imbeciles, but also protect our brothers and sisters afar."

"How so, sir?"

"I believe it is time for you to use you wonderful potion in foreign countries, Johan."

Blaor's eyes sparkled.

"Ah, I can tell you're starting to see the possibilities," Godfrey commented. "I've placed a thousand galleons in your Gringotts vault. First thing tomorrow, gather your assistants, empty your vault, and make your way to Chamonix-Mont-Blanc, France. There you'll find a wizard named Thibaut D'Arras who's a friend of mine since the war with Grindelwald. He's keen on spreading your potion in his home country. He already has set up a lab for you to brew the potion and procured the layouts of the French water treatment plants."

"Thank you, sir, thank you!" Blaor said enthusiastically.

"Go now, my friend, and be safe," Godfrey said before Apparapting away.

**x**

**x**

In his chamber in Voldemort's castle, Draco was awoken by the familiar feeling of his lover working his penis. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked down at Pansy. She had successfully made him erect while he slept and was now bobbing her mouth up on down on him. The wizard was not pestered by Pansy's affection like he had been lately, mostly because he had been able to control her through sleeping potions which allowed him time away from her obsessive behavior. Now fully rested, he happily welcomed the pleasure his lover gave to him. After he came, Pansy showed him his seed in her mouth before swallowing; this had become standard practice for the witch when she performed fellatio.

Pansy took her wizard's hand and led him to the small table. A soft pop and their breakfasts appeared before them.

"How was your rest, my love," Pansy asked after she took her seat across from him.

"Wonderful," he answered honestly. The Sleeping Potion he had given Pansy allowed the besieged wizard enough time to rest without her trying to molest him.

"Did you like the way I woke you darling?" she asked with a loving glint in her eyes. His wide smile gave Pansy the answer she was looking for.

"Draco, darling, let's fetch another plaything after breakfast," the witch suggested. "I learned a new hex that peels away layers of flesh. I was thinking that you could bugger the Muggle cow while I rip the skin off of her forearms," Pansy said nonchalantly. "But when she becomes too bloody, you can stick your cock into my bum."

"But won't my manhood be tainted with the Muggle's filth?" Draco asked as his organ began to swell in anticipation.

Pansy bit her lip and she stared at Draco with dark, lustful eyes before replying simply "Yes it will, won't it."

The moment after she made this coy statement, a peculiar feeling came to Pansy. It made her slightly nauseous over the notion of Draco's organ buried in a Muggle and the thought of his dirtied manhood plowing into her made bile burn her throat. She had not felt such a reaction in a long time. Quickly, Pansy brushed the strange sensation away and smiled seductively at her lover.

The blond wizard was content and oblivious to Pansy's internal pondering. Thanks to the sleeping potion, he could control the annoying side effects of the Amortentia.

**x**

**x**

The sunlight spilled in through the windows and gradually warmed the hut. Hermione stirred slowly. After she had taken Harry the night previously, she joined in with Susan and Daphne while the wizard watched. By the end of the night, the witches had been pleasantly exhausted. Daphne transfigured the tub back into a giant bed and promptly fell in it. Susan had staggered over and lay next to the petite black-haired witch. And Harry carried Hermione and placed her by to the two witches before he crawled between them all.

With the sun chasing away the morning chill, Hermione gently untangled herself from the myriad of limbs that encircled her. Susan fidgeted when Hermione left her arms and the red-head squeezed her eyes tight. "Go back to bed," Susan groaned pathetically. "It's too damn early."

"Come on, get up," Hermione ordered. "There's a lot to do today."

"Like what?" Daphne asked and then yawned.

"Seeing that I'm a wanted criminal, the Ministry will more likely than not start to put pressure on my parents to find me," the brunette answered. Hermione then added sadly to Daphne and Susan; "And I'm sorry to say they'll do the same to you two. Because of me, you'll have to quit your jobs and never return to the flat. The M. L. E. would certainly arrest you for aiding and abetting a felon. I'm really sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I didn't like the job and the flat was boring," Susan said, making light of the subject, as she quickly pulled her blouse on to cover her naked chest. There was a small hint of nervousness under her easy tone.

"We're with you, honey, through thick and thin," Daphne said offering her support as she crawled out of bed. Unlike Susan, Daphne didn't seem to mind being completely naked and tussled.

"They're probably watching your parents' house to keep a look out for you as we speak," Harry said and stretched his muscular arms over his head.

"So what are we going to do? Bring them back here?" asked Susan. Looking around the hut, she commented; "This place will be awfully crowded with two more people."

"No, I'm going to convince them to move out of the country," Hermione answered. "But it will take a while for them to put everything in order before they can move. So until then, I'll have their home put under the Fidelius Charm."

"They won't be too keen on the idea of packing everything up and leaving," speculated Harry as he slipped off of the bed.

"No they won't," agreed Hermione. "But I'm afraid if the Ministry doesn't catch me soon, they'll turn on my Mum and Dad to try to draw me out."

"All right, after we clean up, Susan and I will Apparate to an alley near your folks' place and deal with any Ministry flunkies that will be hiding about," Harry stated.

"We're not going to kill them right?" Susan asked nervously.

"Only if necessary," he responded. If that question had been asked before his kidnapping and torture, Harry would've been appalled that anyone would have even asked it, even if the killing had been committed in a desperate act of self-defense. But now, the concept of taking another person's life, regardless of whether it was in self-defense or not, wasn't a taboo or offensive idea to Harry. "I plan on knocking them out and then have you adjust their memories," he explained.

"And Hermione and I will Apparate to her parents," Daphne added. "I helped her place the runes around here for the Fidelius so I can help her out."

"Yeah, but you should give us fifteen minutes before you head over there," Harry said. "That way we'll have time to deal with any problems."

**x**

**x**

The Healers kept Ron overnight for observations. After a ridiculous amount of paperwork was signed — he swore that some of the papers were just copies of one that he had already signed twice before — he was finally released in the early afternoon and he headed straight home with his wife.

"You sit right here, Ronnie," ordered Mafalda as she patted a seat at the table in their small home. "I'll fix your favorite meal and you just rest." Before waddling into the kitchen, the pregnant witch brushed her fingers through Ron's hair to straighten it. While she made her way to the kitchen, Mafalda continued to fuss. "I don't want you moving about until you're all healed."

"You shouldn't work too much, let me help" Ron croaked hoping that she wouldn't take him up on his offer.

"Ronnie, don't you dare," she ordered and began placing pots and pans on the stove. "I'm your wife and it's my responsibility to care for you."

The wizard smiled in response and sat back down, happy to know that he had married his ideal version of a wife. Or at least: close to his idea of the perfect wife. He still yearned for her to scream and writhe under him while they made love. The experience when Granger fought and screeched under him still caused his blood to race. Often, when Mafalda was occupied or away, Ron would masturbate to the thought of his wife screaming and begging like Granger had. The wizard had to constantly remind himself such a fantasy had almost gotten him chucked in Azkaban and therefore wasn't worth it.

A soft knocking on their door drew Ron's attention away from his dark thoughts. He made to get up to answer the door when his wife scolded; "Just you sit down, Ronnie," as she toddled to the door. "I told you I want you to rest."

Mafalda answered the door and greeted; "Hello, Ginny, have to come to check on Ronnie?"

"Yes," Ginny said and kissed her sister-in-law on the cheek after she entered the house. "I won't take a lot of his time."

"Oh, take as much time as you like," Mafalda giggled, making her double chin shake. "I'm just fixing up a snack for Ronnie."

As Mafalda returned to the stove, Ginny pulled a seat over so that she could sit next to her brother. With a determined look in her eye, she said in a hushed tone so Mafalda wouldn't overhear; "I told you that bitch wasn't to be trusted."

"I know, I know," Ron said and he rubbed his throat. The numbing potion was starting to wear off and the soreness of his injuries was returning.

"You know what I think; I think she's escalated the fight," stated Ginny. "Since her previous plans have all failed, she's pulled out all the stops. That bitch has gotten some big bloke to try and kill you."

"I don't think that was what happened," Ron said. "Yeah, I almost died but there was no way for Granger to know I was coming to arrest her. I think it was just bad timing that we showed up when he was there."

"One thing she's known for besides being a know-it-all and conniving cunt is that she's patient," returned Ginny. "She knew you'd be the one to arrest her. She pushed your buttons and knew you'd retaliate. It was only a matter of time before you showed up at her flat to arrest her and she knew it. That bloke has probably been tagging along with the bitch for days, just waiting to you show up so he could kill you."

Ron eyed his sister as her words sunk in. Granger was just to type of person to lay a trap and then wait for however long it took to spring it.

"But who was he?" he asked about his assailant. "He was dead strong and he could've snapped my neck, but then for some reason, he stopped."

"I have some ideas about that," she offered. "As to whom he was; he's probably just some bloke she picked up and convinced him to attack you."

"How? It's not like Granger has enough gold to hire some thug," he pointed out.

"That's easy, the cunt probably just spread her legs and the man fell for whatever line she had fed him," concluded Ginny.

Even though he knew Granger had turned lesbian, Ron nodded his head in agreement to his sister's assumption about the conniving witch. Granger would do such a thing more than likely. He knew first hand that the cunt was willing to use her body to manipulate and control people. She had done the very same thing with him.

"And as to his incredible strength, Granger is skilled at potions. She probably made some kind of hyper-adrenaline draught which gave this man a temporary boost in strength," she explained. "He probably ran out of steam when he got to you."

"That scheming bitch," Ron hissed through his teeth angrily. If the potion had lasted just a few seconds longer, the unknown man would've killed him.

Ginny leaned back in her chair and said in a serious tone; "Granger has to be dealt with, and dealt with now!"

"Don't worry; I'm sure Wright is setting up a task force to do just that," Ron said. "The M. L. E. won't let someone who murdered one of our own get away."

"Yeah, I kind of figured that they would do something like that. But I think you should be head of this task force," offered Ginny firmly.

"I can't. Even if I wasn't a rookie, I'm personally involved because I used to date the bitch and she has it in for me now," he told his sister. "Wright did me a favor when he allowed me to arrest the bitch. But now that an officer died, Wright will be playing it strictly by the book."

"But don't you see, since you are so personally involved you're the perfect choice," persisted Ginny. "You know her better than anyone else; you know her personality, her beliefs, and the way she acts. You're the best bet the M. L. E. has to get her."

"I don't know Ginny," Ron said. Under his doubt, a touch of annoyance began to surface. "Even if Wright allowed me to be on the task force, much less run it, it would make a lot of extra work for me. Paperwork is so boring and downright confusing."

"All right then, do it for revenge," she returned. Ginny had a fire in her eye as she spoke. "Do it because you want to be the one who hauls her arse to Azkaban because what she did to you. And if you're in charge of the task force, you can have someone else fill out paperwork – one of your subordinates."

Ron paused and thought hard about what his sister had said. It would feel good to personally throw the Mudblood behind bars. To be the last person she saw before the cell door swung closed. And to have her know that it was he — the wizard she tried to ruin and kill — that put a stop to her maniacal ways.

The pleased look on his face told Ginny that Ron had agreed with her argument. She said; "Now remember, don't say anything about revenge to Wright. Just use the idea that you know Granger better than anyone else. I'm sure if you word your request well enough, he'll say yes."

**x**

**x**

With a loud crack, Susan and Harry arrived a half mile away from Hermione's parents' house. The neighborhood was an upper-middle-class area filled with pristine, elegant houses, shinny luxury cars, and immaculate gardens. It was, Harry thought, the Dursleys' idea of perfection.

"Where do you think they'll be?" Susan asked, looking over the pretty homes and gardens as if she'd find some clue at to the location of the M. L. E. Officers watching the Grangers'.

"More likely than not, right across the street from the house," he answered. "We Appparated so far away because I didn't want to alert them we were coming." He turned his attention away from the rows of houses and told the red haired witch; "You should put Disillusionment Charms on both of us. It not as good as my Invisibility Cloak, but it will help hide us from whoever is watching Hermione's folks."

"We're going to have to get you a wand," Susan playfully complained as she cast the charm on Harry. "I can't have you asking me to cast charms all the time."

As Harry began to turn transparent Susan whacked her wand on top of her head and cast the charm on herself. "_Bur-r-r,_ that's cold," she commented as the charm began to work.

Harry scanned the area once again. This time he took a deep breath and let the countless scents wash over him. He could smell and taste the scores of people in and around the homes. With his new-found heightened scenes, not only could Harry pick through the myriad of scents and aromas around him, but he could also track and pinpoint the origins of those smells. The musky aroma of a man, metal, glass, plastic, and soapy water told Harry that a man was washing his car a block away. In a nearby kitchen a woman was chopping vegetables — he could smell the metal of the knife, the scent of the fresh celery, and her perfume as well as her womanly scents. A half mile away, Harry could smell a man and a woman who shared many of Hermione's pleasant aromas and he concluded that these must be the brunette witch's parents. Close to those scents, no more than fifty feet away, Harry could smell two men standing out in the open. Under these two men's smells and aromas that were distinct to each of them, they also shared a particular scent and it singled them out from the rest of the people in the neighborhood. It was very faint; even to Harry's powerful scenes it was nothing more than a hint of a fragrance. It smelled like a combination of electricity and sandalwood.

As a test, Harry reeled his scenes back and took his and Susan's aromas. There, under their unique smells, he could detect the same faint smell he had gotten from the two men near the Grangers'.

"Huh, that's interesting; apparently I can differentiate between Muggles and magical folk with just my sense of smell," commented Harry.

"That's a singular skill," Susan said. "That'd be a hoot as a party trick, though."

"I'm going to try and change into the demon just a little. I want to be able to use the speed to get the drop on the wizards. I reckon that added with the Disillusionment Charm they won't know what hit them," Harry stated. He knew if he let the demon have complete control like he had done when he attacked the Acromantulas, the beast would surely kill the wizards. Harry decided he couldn't have that; the wizards were just doing their jobs and therefore didn't deserve to die — he noted that if they had even threatened his witches or their families, Harry would take their lives with hesitation or remorse. Also, Harry didn't want to let the demon loose in a Muggle neighborhood. He dreaded the thought of what potential devastation the beast could cause.

"You can control your transformation like that?" asked Susan curiously. "You can control it so you don't turn completely?"

"I'm about to find out," Harry said and focused his mind. He could feel the beast in his belly. The demon wanted to be unleashed so it could feed upon flesh. The beast desired to hunt the two wizards watching the Grangers' and rend their body asunder. But Harry used his will to force most of the beast down, only letting a fraction of it free.

The wizard felt his legs and arms lengthen by a half foot. His shirt and trousers stretched until they tore a few places along the seams when his chest, arms, and legs thickened with strong muscles. Inch long fangs grew in his mouth. Short horns popped out of his skull. And if he could see his skin, Harry was certain it would've taken on an ebony tinge.

The demon pushed at Harry's control. It wanted to be set free. But the wizard would not have it and he held the beast in place.

"Hop on my back," Harry ordered, his rumbling voice was deep and animalistic. He squatted to give Susan an easier climb. "I'll carry you to the house where the wizards are. Then I'll drop you off and take care of them."

"Okay," Susan said and she fumbled around, blindly feeling for him. Her hands touched something warm and rough – like leather left out in the sun. The red-head surprised herself when a tiny urge popped up in her mind – she wanted to find out if Harry tasted different in this semi-demon form. She wanted to run her tongue on his rough skin. Pushing the desire back, Susan slid her hands to Harry's shoulders. Perhaps she would pursue this urge at a later time.

"Now put your arms around my neck," he said.

She slid her hands over his shoulders, down and across his chest so that her arms were wrapped around his neck. Once she was secure, Harry stood. Susan squealed when she was hoisted two feet off the ground.

Like a gazelle, Harry jumped, landing a half dozen feet away and began to run toward the wizards. His long, powerful legs propelled him far faster than he could have gone in his human form. The wind blew Susan's short hair straight back and forced her to squint her eyes.

It was completely unlike when he had attacked the castle. Harry let the demon be the one in control and he simply watched. But now, he was the one in command. He was not just an observer watching the demon work. Now that he was in control, this was, in a way, more exciting then his adventure the night before.

In a few short moments, Harry traveled the half mile and was leaping over the wall where he had sensed the wizards.

He couldn't see them, obviously they were hiding under invisibility cloaks, but he could smell them and hear their heartbeats and breathing. Just like the demon had done the previous night, Harry could use those senses to pinpoint the hidden wizards. This was so precise that the sounds of their breaths flowing in and out of their nostrils told Harry exactly where their heads were.

Harry tapped Susan's arms as a signal to slide off of his back. The moment her hands slid off of him and her feet touched the ground, Harry jumped at the wizards. His hands shot out and took hold of their heads. The wizards tried to pull free from his grasp and Harry could hear their pulses spike. In a rapid motion, Harry brought the two unseen wizards' heads together forcibly. A dull thud sounded, similar to two wooden boards smacking, as their skulls collided. Harry held the wizards' heads in his hand, ready to strike again if either of them showed any signs of movement. A moment later, Harry heard their heartbeats slow and become steady. Knowing they were unconscious, Harry dropped them to the ground.

When their bodies hit the floor, Harry heard a bottle smash. He tugged off their cloaks and found two unconscious M. L. E. officers — both of whom had large red welts forming on their foreheads but neither appeared to have suffered permanent harm — and a broken bottle of firewhisky.

"Looks like they were planning a celebration," Susan commented, eying the shattered bottle. She was surprised by this observation. The red-head would've presumed she would've been more concerned by the wizards' condition. She quickly assumed her lack of worry was over the fact neither of the two unknown men had severe injuries.

"That or they were taking shots to pass the time," speculated Harry as he forced the beast down into his belly and reverted to his human form. "It probably gets boring just watching a house all day long with nothing else to do."

"True," Susan said. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at the wizard on the left and incanted_ "Obliviate!" _She rapidly repeated the charm on the other.

"What did you make them remember?" he asked.

"I incorporated what you said about them being bored. Now they think they made up a silly drinking game that got out of hand and they blacked-out," the red-head explained. "They'll think the bump on their heads came from when they fell down."

"A drinking game?"

"Yeah, basically they took a shot every time they saw something," she clarified. "They think they had to drink whenever they saw one of those weird devices the Muggles ride around in."

"A car?" he asked.

"That's right," Susan said. "Is there anyone else keeping an eye on the Grangers?"

After focusing his senses on the area for a few moments, Harry answered "No, no one."

"Okay, we have a few minutes to spare before Hermione and Daphne show up. Do you need to recharge after your transformation?" she asked. Even though she was transparent, Harry got the distinct impression that Susan was wriggling her eyebrows. "Because if you do, I'd like to conjure a bed before we start. I'm not much for shagging on the grass; too many creepy crawling lying about in there."

"Actually, I don't need to," Harry said. "It seems I only need to recharge after I really exert myself."

"Well, just because you don't need to recharge doesn't necessarily mean we can't shag," Susan offered playfully. "We can even do it while we're still Disillusioned. I've never done it that way before."

"Not enough time, honey," he said with a lightness that equaled the buxom red-head's tone. "What I'd do to you would take a whole lot longer than what we've got."

"Promises, promises," Susan chirped. "So, what should we do for the next ten minutes until Hermione and Daphne arrive?" she asked

"We can talk," Harry offered.

"Okay. What about?" she asked and ended the Disillusionment Charm on both her and Harry. Upon seeing Harry's torn clothes, she commented; "Wait a tic, let me fix you up; you can't see Hermione's folks with you clothes all torn up." She waved her wand over his body and the ripped stitches in Harry's shirt and trousers sewed themselves back up. "Now that's out of the way, what should we talk about?"

"Last night for starters," he began. "How do you feel about what happened between you, Hermione, and Daphne? You claimed you weren't into _'witch-on-witch action,'_ but you seemed pretty into it."

With her ears turning pink, Susan defended, "It was just the heat of the moment. I really wasn't thinking straight. I mean that magical bond made me more randy than a Quidditch Club after winning the World Cup. I was so effing hot that I would've banged a goblin just to get off."

"Regardless of the reason; did you not like being with Daphne and Hermione?"

Susan fidgeted for a moment. She kept her eyes off of Harry by watching her foot kick at a dried leaf on the grassy ground. She feared he might see the answer in her face The witch then realized because of Harry's heightened senses, he didn't need to look in her eye to see the truth. With guilty eyes, Susan looked at Harry and asked; "If I lie, will you say something like _'I can hear your pulse change and know you're not being honest'_?"

"Something like that," he said with a nod. Harry surprised himself by running his fingers through her hair – a silent, intimate gesture to show her support and comfort. Her silky locks curled around his fingers and brushed against his palm. It was an odd, unconscious action. Harry, who had never shown much physical intimacy, enjoyed it. So much so that he repeated the action, this time increasing the lengths of the stroke, dragging his fingers over her soft cheek and through her hair. The third time Harry ran his fingers over her check and through her hair, she finally answered the question lamely; "Well, it was a different experience."

"Different in a bad way?" he prodded, knowing that she'd say no.

"All right, Daphne and Hermione really know what they're doing," she confessed. Susan blushed and smiled, a combination caused by her confession and Harry's touch. She liked Harry's touch; it made her feel warm and content. "I still like blokes, though. I don't think I'll ever switch sides completely. Which is good news for you, isn't it. Although I'm a little new to the whole labia licking," she said lightly. The red-head was still a little embarrassed; she had never even looked at another witch in a sexual way before the previous night and now she was talking about performing cunnilingus. There was a tingling sensation in her belly and she didn't know if they were butterflies of excitement or just nerves. "As you know, I'm good at sucking willy, but I still need some pointers on what to do with girl-bits."

"Why do you do that?" he asked.

"Do what?"

"Use humor as a defense," he explained. He paused in his stroking and cupped her face in the palm of his hand. "I've noticed that whenever you're nervous or a little scared, you turn it into a joke."

"What should I be nervous about?" she asked.

"Two reasons. First," he pointed to the two unconscious M. L. E. Officers. Susan had to admit that even though she wasn't overly concerned about the M. L. E. offices well-being, the whole activity of tracking them down, knocking them out and altering their memories set her on edge a touch. "And second, we're talking about you having sex with women. You tend to make light of situations that make you nervous or frightened."

The red-head sighed and began; "It's something I've done since I was just a kid – the joking bit, not sex with women." She smiled guiltily, realizing that she had done it again. "I used to be a chubby thing before I developed. And you know how mean kids could be; I was picked on about my weight all the time. I started to tell jokes basically to make myself feel better. You know, when I was crying and I needed a boost. So I did it myself. It kind of grew from there. Now I tell jokes when I'm sad, angry, upset, whenever.

"It's not just a defense for me though. It also brings me comfort, too," the red-head concluded. "It kind of forces me to look on the bright side, I guess."

"Actually, I do like your sense of humor. It's one of the many things I like about you," Harry stated, "even if it is mostly a defense."

"So you like my sense of humor and my tits," Susan said lightly while cupping her large breasts as if proudly displaying them for Harry.

Harry smiled sadly. He knew his admission that he liked her caused the self-doubt that nagged her to turn his honest compliment into a joke. Clearly, her statement about her breasts and the one she had made when Harry was looking at her face when they woke up in each others arms the other day told Harry Susan felt the only trait she had to offer was her bosom and that she had nothing else worth while. She automatically lowered his statement of affection because a part of her wrongly believed she did not deserve it. She turned the loving words into a passing jibe at herself. He began to wonder if she not only told jokes to raise her spirits as a child, but that she had used self deprecating humor as a defense — that she would insult and belittle herself as a way to make the other children's cruel words less painful.

To counteract this poor self image, Harry leaned to her, placed his free hand on her face, and while holding her in place, looked deeply into her eyes and said; "There's not a part of you that isn't beautiful. From your hair, to your eyes, your wonderful smile, and the cute dimple on you chin." The wizard paused and lightly kissed said dimple. "And then there's your mind; smart fun, and compassionate. There's not one part of you; body, mind, and spirit, that I can compliment enough. You are a beautiful woman in every possible aspect."

Susan returned "You're such a sweet talker." Her self doubt reared up once again, turning Harry's words in a passing joke.

"No, it's the truth and you deserve it," he said and kissed her. He poured everything into that kiss; how she made him feel happy, how her smile caused him to smile in return and how she made his day that much brighter.

When he pulled away, Harry saw tears threaten to escape Susan's eyes. Using his thumb, he brushed one stray tear away.

"I-I don't deserve that," Susan said with doubt.

"You deserve that and more," he replied honestly. Once again, he kissed her. "I will tell you that you are beautiful in every way possible every day until you believe it, because it is true."

Sniffing, Susan said "Well then, I guess that I'll just have to ask for some lessons from Daphne and Hermione in labia licking so that I can return some of what you've given to me and let me watch as I go down on the other two."

There wasn't doubt in her voice this time. This time, Harry knew that Susan made light of it because she was happy, not because she felt she wasn't worth the affection.

"Maybe I should watch those lessons," Harry said with a smile, picking up on Susan's tone. "I reckon I can always learn some new ways to pleasure my witches."

"You just want to sit in on the labia licking lesion just so you can watch two hot witches go down on each other," she playfully chided.

Harry rubbed his chin in a mock show of deep thought before responding; "Yes, yes I do."

With a sparkle in her eyes, Susan kissed the wizard. "Thanks for the talk, Harry, I needed that."

"Whenever you need a pick me up, just ask me, beautiful."

**x**

**x**

With two loud cracks, Hermione and Daphne Apparated directly into the brunette's parents' kitchen. The noise and sudden appearance of two people caused Hermione's mother, who had been washing dishes in the sink, to jump in shock.

"Hermione Jane Granger, don't _ever_ do that again!" Paullina scolded, holding her hand over her fluttering heart. "You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry, Mum," apologized Hermione. Immediately, images and memories from that fateful night she was last at her parents' threatened to overtake Hermione. The witch had not stepped foot in her parent's house since her rape and now that she was here, the painful and traumatic memories came flooding back. She focused on the task at hand in order to ignore the memory. While unconsciously wringing her hands, Hermione asked; "Is Dad home?"

"Yes, he's in the study," answered Paullina. The older woman was concerned by what Hermione was doing with her hands. Clearly, her daughter was upset.

"Dad, could you come into the kitchen please?" Hermione called out.

"Is everything okay?" her mother asked.

"It's a little complicated," Hermione said vaguely. She didn't want to explain the situation until her father joined.

"Hermione dear! What brings you here?" her father asked, trotting into the kitchen. The man affectionately kissed Hermione on the cheek. He turned to Daphne and introduced himself. "I'm Edward, you can call me Ed."

"I'm Paullina," Hermione's mother said.

"I'm sorry, this is Daphne," Hermione introduced the black haired witch. "She's my friend."

Before leaving the hut, Hermione and Daphne decided that telling her parents the truth about their love would be a bad idea, much less the fact they were now involved in a four-some. Her parents would be so upset over their forced move they would take the news of Hermione's love life poorly and would in all likelihood react harshly.

"Hullo," Daphne said and shook Ed's hand. The witch had a knot in her stomach over the notion of meeting her lover's parents. Even with their relationship a secret, meeting Hermione's mum and dad made her nervous and edgy.

As she shook Paullina's hand in greeting, Daphne saw it was clear Hermione got her cute little overbite and full lips, which made her very kissable in Daphne's opinion, from her mother. Another glance at Ed confirmed that Hermione's pretty eyes and her unruly hair came from her father. Even though Ed kept his hair short, it appeared he constantly struggled with it much like Hermione did with hers.

"Now what's the problem?" Paullina asked now that the pleasantries were out of the way, eager to get to the root of what was bothering her daughter.

Hermione chewed her lip for a moment before she answered; "Mum, Dad, you have to leave the country."

"What?" balked her mother in surprise.

"Is the war getting that bad?" asked Ed. "I know those Death Eaters or whatever they're called have gotten more brazen. But do you really think it's necessary for us to leave?"

"It's not just the war. I'm in trouble with the Ministry of Magic. They have a warrant for my arrest," explained Hermione.

Their daughter's news had left Ed and Paullina literally gob smacked. Never had the thought of what Hermione just said even crossed their minds. To their understanding, their daughter was the perfect, law-abiding citizen and the magical government couldn't possibly have cause to arrest her.

While her parents were still stunned, Hermione explained further; "The Ministry isn't above using my loved ones to try and catch me. Given time, they might arrest you on some trumped up charges in order to lure me into a trap.

"This, added with the danger of the war — which is spiraling out of control and is only going to get worse — means you two should pack up and leave," Hermione continued. "Anywhere in Europe would still be hazardous, I think. To be safe, you should move to Australia, New Zealand, Canada, or even the States."

"Why are they after you?" Paullina asked, finally overcoming the shock of Hermione's announcement.

"It's complicated," answered Hermione.

"They would have to have a reason to want to arrest you," persisted Ed.

"You didn't do something wrong did you?" her mother asked.

"Of course I didn't," Hermione replied, offended her mother would even ask such a thing.

"Does this have anything to do with the last night you were home?" Paullina asked. "The last time you and your boyfriend, Ron, had dinner here?"

"No, what would make you think that?" asked Hermione, confident her parents were oblivious to the heinous act that occurred in their house. To her knowledge, when Ron had been arrested, the M. L. E. should've cleaned up the place. They would've magically cleaned the blood and repaired any broken furniture, effectively removing any evidence of the rape. Therefore, Hermione's parents should not have had a clue as to what horrible thing happened that night.

"Go get it," Paullina asked her husband.

Ed, looking crestfallen, left the kitchen.

"What's going on, Mum?" asked Hermione.

Paullina did not answer, but gave Hermione a sad look. A moment later, Ed returned and stood next to his wife. In his hand, the man carried a folded handkerchief. Slowly and carefully, Ed unfolded the handkerchief to reveal a large chunk of tooth with a blob of dried blood on it.

"It's most of the crown from the first bicuspid," informed Ed.

"We found it under the kitchen table a few days after you last had dinner here," explained Paullina.

Apparently, the M. L. E. officers who took Ron into custody that night had not been as thorough as Hermione had hoped. They missed her tooth that was knocked out of her mouth during the vicious assault.

"Is it yours?" Paullina asked. Both she and Ed had worry carved on their faces.

"It's not mine," Hermione lied poorly. She tried to show her teeth, but her lip quavered. The memory of that night and the fear her parents might find out what happened caused tears to well up in her eyes.

The sight of their daughter's pain and frightened eyes only caused Paullina and Ed's concern to worsen. With her lip trembling, Paullina asked "What happened, baby?" It was evident that Hermione was in pain and it ripped at the older woman's heart.

"Nothing," Hermione said despite the truth etched in her eyes.

Daphne had her hands covering her mouth in order to stop herself from crying. The hurt and worry on her lover's face as well as Hermione's parents cut through Daphne like a hot knife. If she even attempted to help maintain Hermione's lie, Daphne knew a pitiful sob would escape her lips the moment she opened her mouth.

Both Ed and Paullina knew what had happened, deep down inside. But part of them desperately hoped Hermione would tell them they were wrong and foolish in believing she had been assaulted. However, the sad and painful look in their daughter's eyes told them this hope was futile.

Hermione had been so brave and had not let the horrible thing Ron did to her drag her down into despair. But here, in the place where it happened and if front of her parents, her courage was rapidly slipping away. She was bombarded with the images of Ron's face. How it loomed over her with his expression a disgusting mixture of rage and ecstasy. The mad sparkle he had in his eye when he tore into her. And the memories of the pain that ripped through her. But worst of all, the pain she felt in her heart over the violent betrayal rushed back to her. The tears cascaded down her face.

When they had first found the tooth, Ed and Paullina told themselves it came from Ron, Hermione's boyfriend. They believed he tripped and fell, which caused him to lose a tooth. But when Hermione had not contacted them for a long period of time, they realized their daughter was hiding something from them and the truth began to sink in. Since then, the couple had run the gambit of emotions; pain, guilt, anger, and fear. They had thought they had grown strong because of dealing with these emotions. And because of this, they felt that when this moment arrived they would be brave and show their daughter their support. But with Hermione standing before them, with tears flowing from her eyes, the strength they had gained vanished.

"Please, baby, talk to us," Paullina begged as she too began to cry freely.

Hermione, knowing she could no longer lie and would blurt out the truth if she opened her mouth, refused to answer her mother's plea. The brunette witch shook her head and tried to fight the urge to run to her mother and cry in her arms. Hermione felt it would be unfair and cruel to place this heavy burden on her parents.

"I'll kill him!" growled Ed. His hands bunched into fits and his nails made crescent shape cuts in his palms. The man berated himself as his daughter cried. He had failed her. It was his job as her father to protect her. It was his duty to know if Ron could've hurt his girl, and yet that son of a bitch hurt her — under his own roof no less.

Daphne saw movement from the back garden and saw Harry and Susan framed by the window. Susan looked sad and frightened and Daphne realized that she herself must've looked very similar. Harry was sad as well, but he also had a look of anger about him much like Ed had. Clearly, Harry and Susan heard enough of the conversation to know that it was not going well.

"Are you sure we should go in?" Susan nervously asked Harry.

"Hermione needs us," he answered. His anger and sorrow filled voice betrayed his emotions

Wiping a tear from her eye, Susan waved her wand and the door clicked open. As silently as they could, they crept into the kitchen.

Hermione's father spun around and looked at Harry. The wizard could see Ed's sadness, anger and guilt, and Harry knew exactly how he felt. Not only had Harry felt rage over what Ron had done to Hermione, he also felt guilty. He wasn't there to protect her, and Harry felt as if he failed Hermione.

Harry simply said; "He will pay." It was said not so much for Ed's benefit as it was for his own. Not only did Harry want revenge, but he also needed to prove he could protect Hermione.

The statement Harry made effectively confirmed the dreadful assault and the last remains of Ed, Paullina, and Hermione's waning resolve was blown asunder. With a sad tremble, Hermione held out her arms to her mother, much like a small child who is frightened and hurt. Instantly, both Paullina and Ed rushed to their daughter. Each of them wrapped their arms around one another tightly and they fell to their knees.

Desperately, Daphne wanted to join in that embrace. But she knew better, this was for Hermione and her parents. Despite this, the witch wanted to be held so someone could lessen the pain in her heart or at least share in it. Thankfully, Susan had the same need. The two witches walked to each other and quickly embraced. Daphne cried into Susan's neck while the red-head took in a long, shuttering breath before letting a pitiful sob escape her throat.

Harry tried to fight his own tears by focusing on what he would do to Ron once he got his hands on the rapist once again. But the thought of the physical and emotion pain Hermione had suffered as well as his own sense of guilt tore away at him. Within a matter of seconds, Harry lost his struggle and was crying. He had every intention of bearing this on his own, weeping in the corner. But his witches would not have this. When Susan and Daphne saw the globs of tear spill down Harry's face, they rushed at him and threw their arms around his neck and chest. Not only did they do this to help Harry deal with the pain, but they also did it so that he could help them.

**x**

**x**

Two young Death Eaters filed into their Master's throne room. Draco and Pansy knelt and bowed before the Dark Lord.

"You called for us sire?" Draco asked while his forehead still touched the cold stone floor in a sign of the respect that the Dark Lord was due.

"You may rise, my friends," Voldemort commanded.

"Thank you, my Lord," Draco returned as he and his lover stood. He gave a polite nod of his head to his aunt, Bellatrix, who was standing besides their Master's throne. The blond wizard was still nervous around the Dark Lord despite having been trusted enough to join his inner circle in the attack of Hogwarts.

"Draco, Pansy, I need your services once more," the Dark Lord began. "It has come to my knowledge the mudblood Granger has Potter. And it appears she has bonded with him. Unfortunately, she and my pet have gone into hiding. I need you two and your team to find them for me."

Instantly Draco began bristling with pride. Once again, the Dark Lord had personally selected him for an important mission. The young wizard allowed a smug smile to grace his lips as he compared himself to Snape; Draco was performing vital tasks for their Master while his former Head of House was practically locked away in the dungeons like a lowly house-elf. The next time he saw the wizard he once admired, Draco planned on rubbing Snape's insult of not being a proper Death Eater back in his long, hooked nose.

For several seconds after Voldemort gave his order, the only thing Pansy could think about was how this mission would reflect upon the wizard she loved; if the mission was not successful, then her wizard would be considered a failure and she couldn't have that. She would do everything in her power to ensure a successful mission just to make sure Draco would be showered with praise from the Master. But then, a touch of pride in herself came bubbling up. It was like a small voice, one that Pansy had not heard in a long while. This soft voice told her she deserved to take satisfaction in the Dark Lord's decision. Not because it reflected well upon her lover, but because it reflected well upon Pansy herself. The voice affected Pansy. She now swore she would do everything in her power to see that Granger and Potter were found, not solely for Draco's glory, but for her own as well.

"Since Potter has at least one concubine to feed off of, he is very dangerous. I have discovered that he was able to kill one wizard and injured two others easily. That is why I have allowed you to have your team assist in the task of finding Granger. You will need the help in dealing with my wayward pet," continued Voldemort. "Obviously I don't have to tell you that your fellow teammates should not know of the particular circumstances surrounding my pet. All they need know is that I want him found," the Dark Lord said. He knew it should be clear to his young minions what would happen to them if they leaked such precious information, so he didn't feel the need to overtly threaten them.

"Sire, we shall root the mudblood and Potter out and bring them back to you," Draco said boldly and confidently.

"Of that I have not doubt because Bellatrix will aid you," added Voldemort.

Bellatrix quelled her negative reaction to this surprising news. Even though she loathed the notion of being a baby-sitter to her nephew and his team of novice Death Eaters, Bellatrix knew her Master was infallible. Therefore, his decision must be followed without hesitation or objection.

"I know this displeases you, Bella," Voldemort said almost sweetly to the witch. "But Draco and his team will need a seasoned hand to guide them."

"I understand, my Lord," she replied, accepting his orders. His sympathy to her apprehension made him even nobler in her mind. Bellatrix knew the Dark Lord did not need to explain his decision nor did he have to care whether or not his followers were happy with that decision. The fact he did sympathize made her Master all the more just and gallant to Bellatrix.

"And as a present for your understanding, you can do whatever you wish to the mudblood once I have my pet back," Voldemort offered Bellatrix. "Might I suggest you use the ritual blade you used on Potter to prepare him for the sacrifice on the mudblood? I'm certain her screams of agony as you carve away her flesh will please you."

Bellatrix licked her lips as the thought of cutting up the little mudblood played out in her head. "Thank you, Master, you know me so well," she said with a contented and breathy tone.

"Now, Draco, it should be clear that my pet is to be unharmed," Voldemort said to the neophyte Death Eater. "And since I've promised the mudblood to Bellatrix as payment, Granger shouldn't be harmed either. We don't want to take the pleasure of making the mudblood scream away from Bellatrix, now do we? However, you can do with as you wish to any other witch my pet has taken as his concubine. After all, your mother still has the young witches you selected waiting to be claimed by him. And to let them sit there and do nothing would be a waste."

"I understand, my Lord," Draco said. "I shall go to the Weasleys' house straight away."

"No," Voldemort commanded.

"But Sire, the mudblood is closely connected to the blood traitors," Draco dared to state as if this was not known to the Dark Lord. "That would be the first place Granger would go."

Voldemort chuckled at Draco. The foolish boy had to be taught a lesson. The Dark Lord leveled his wand at the boy and incanted _"Crucio!"_

Screaming in pain, Draco fell to the floor. Pansy looked at her lover as he writhed on the cold, stone floor. It was curious to Pansy, she knew if this happened just the other day, she would have done anything to help Draco; even attack Voldemort —which would have been an act of suicide. She would've gladly done this because she believed her life was worth nothing compared to her lover's and she would've gladly died to protect him from any harm. But now, as he twitched and convulsed at her feet, an odd and alien thought came to the forefront of her mind. It was a thought that had not come to her since Draco had given her the Amortentia. The thought was_ "Draco deserved to be punished for defying their Master." _ It was an odd thought, one that wouldn't have come into play just a day before. Even more curious was the fact Pansy knew this. She could clearly distinguish that the Amortentia would not have allowed her to think this way — any ill thoughts of her lover had been purged from her head thanks to the powerful love potion. But now, for some reason, she could.

After a few moments, Voldemort finally lifted the agonizing curse. As Draco tried to recover, the Dark Lord severely lectured; "You're a fool to believe you know something that I do not! I have spies littered about the Order and Ministry. Not only do they supply me with vital information on my enemies, they keep the blood traitors under a close eye. And through them I know that a schism has developed between the Weasleys and the mudblood. Looking for Granger and my pet at the blood traitors' home would be pointless.

"The reason why I gave you this mission is simply because you went to school with Granger. You know whom she spoke to and I need you to question anyone who might have been in contact with her," barked Voldemort. "And I have charged Bellatrix to insure that you don't foul up the search!"

Draco struggled to stand and Pansy did nothing to assist him.

"Now be gone from my sight," snarled Voldemort.

**x**

**x**

Outside Wright's office, Ron was working up the nerve to ask his superior to be put in charge of catching Granger. The red-haired wizard attempted to approach Wright earlier in the day, but as Ron made his way to the office, he lost his nerve and turned back.

Now, a few minutes before his shift was scheduled to end, Ron finally screwed up his Gryffindor courage and marched into Wright's office. Trying to dismiss his sweating palms, thundering pulse, and the odd, pensive look Wright was giving him, Ron blurted out his plan.

"Sir, I would like to be put in charge of the detail to track down and arrest the fugitive, Hermione Granger." Ron was surprised to notice that his voice didn't have a nervous warble when he spoke.

Wright did not answer. He continued to look at Ron in a detached and thoughtful way, as if weighing his options.

Ron mistook Wright's expression to mean that the Sergeant was going to dismiss his proposal outright, so the red haired wizard quickly added; "Listen, sir, I know it's against procedure because I'm personally involved. But I think the fact I'm involved so closely makes me perfect for the job. I've known Granger for years. I know the way she acts and thinks. I could use that knowledge to track her down."

"All right, you've convinced me," the senior office finally announced. "I'll assign you a team to lead in the investigation."

Ron was floored. He hadn't really believed he'd get the lead. At best, he was hoping to join the team, not head it. But Ron knew a good opportunity when it came — despite the extra work that came with it — so he jumped at it.

"Thank you sir!" he cheered. "I won't let you down."

"You'll have Marshal, Segundus, and Rhisiart under you," Wright informed. "I'm assigning them to you because your position will cause quite a stink with most of the senior officers. You're still a rookie and putting you in charge of an important investigation will ruffle some feathers. Marshal and Segundus had M. L. E. training with you so I think they won't be upset in the slightest. And Rhisiart is an old wizard close to retirement who won't care about such things. He's about to get his pension and he won't give a damn really. I won't be able to assign you anyone else however; they wouldn't want to answer to a rookie."

"I understand, sir," replied Ron. His heart raced with thrill. Here he was, still a fresh face and he was being put in charge of an important assignment.

Wright began to write out Weasley's orders. Once done, he waved his wand over the parchment and made three duplicates. Wright handed the younger wizard the four copies and said "Bagshot is dead. I'll accept nothing less than justice to be done. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," Ron said excitedly. He took the orders and marched out of the office to go fetch his team with his head held high.

**To be continued…**


	13. Chapter 13

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Thirteen

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and non-consensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major canon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from canon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

"Are you sure we won't be able to come back home?" Paullina asked after sipping the tea she made to soothe her frayed nerves.

"No, even if Voldemort loses – which I hope he does – the Ministry would still want to arrest me," answered Hermione whose eyes, like everyone else, were red and puffy from the emotional breakdown they had just experienced. She added in a soft, almost defeated undertone; "Ron's seen to that."

All of them, except for Harry, had taken a seat at the small kitchen table. Susan and Daphne were on one side while Hermione and her parents were on the other. Ed had his arm around Hermione shoulders and Paullina held their daughter's hand. Both of them retained physical contact with Hermione in a sign of comfort as well as protection. Harry, who felt uncomfortable in such an intimate family thanks to his poor upbringing, awkwardly stood off to the side.

"We have enough money saved up to move to another country," said Paullina, "but we'll empty all of our reserves in the move and won't have much to live off of."

"So we'd have to start a practice wherever we go," stated Ed. "We'll have to call around to get work visas and see if our licenses to practice dentistry would be accepted."

"And don't forget about our patients here," Paullina added. "Not only will we have to sell our practice, but we'll have to direct our patients to other dentists."

It was clear by their voices that it hurt them to do this. They had spent years building their practice up and now they were being forced to give it all up and start over again. But they knew their daughter, and if she said they were in danger, then it meant they were. Hermione never embellished or exaggerated about such important things.

"It'll take a few weeks to everything ready," concluded Paullina.

"I thought as much," Hermione said. "And I must insist you only leave the house only if absolutely necessary. I'm going to put a spell on the house which will hide it from anyone watching. But if you leave, they'll spot you and arrest you."

"What about food? We don't have barren cupboards but I doubt we have enough to last us a few weeks," Ed pointed out.

"The spell that will hide the house, called the Fidelius Charm, will take a while to prepare. While Daphne and I set up the proper runes, Harry and Susan will go to the grocer and buy some more food and supplies for you," the brunette witch explained. "And we'll check on you every few days to see how you're doing."

Ed and Paullina nodded their heads in agreement. Neither one was pleased in the slightest, but they both knew it was the only option for them.

**x**

**x**

With Moody's death, the various wards and protection the paranoid wizard erected in and around his house had fallen. This forced the Order of the Phoenix to return to the Burrow for their meetings.

As Kingsley, Remus, and Arthur spoke about recent Death Eater activity, Tonks kept her eyes fixed on Martha. The young Auror was trying to formulate a plan on how to deal with Voldemort's spy. It was a necessary evil, but Tonks knew she would have to kill Martha. If Tonks tried to apprehend and capture the spy, there was a chance she could escape. And if Martha escaped, she'd alert Voldemort and Tonks' parents would be murdered as well as Remus more likely than not. Since the lives of the people she loved were on the line, Tonks couldn't take a single chance. She had to kill Martha.

But it was not as simple as that, Tonks realized. She had to make it look like an accident because she feared if Voldemort suspected she had something to do with Martha's death, surely Tonks' parents would suffer. So, Tonks had to either make it look like an accident or somehow place the blame on someone else. Tonks set her mind in motion to this end.

After drawing everyone's attention, Kingsley announced "All right, we've heard some rumors coming from Knockturn Alley; it seems like there's a certain Death Eater hopeful spouting off about performing an important mission for You Know Who."

"That doesn't seem likely," Remus said with his brow furrowed. "We can't be that lucky to have a Death Eater blab. Even if this one's nothing more than a wannabe."

"What's this wannabe's name?" asked Bill Weasley.

"Cuthbert Meredith," answered Kingsley.

"Is he reliable?" inquired another Order member.

"I've had some dealings with him before. What I know about him is that he's a pickpocket and a petty confidence man. Knuts and sickles dealings mostly," Kingsley stated.

"Then why are we dealing with him? He sounds nothing more than a small time crook, not a killer. I doubt he's Death Eater material," Remus stated.

"Normally, I'd agree with you," Kingsley spoke patiently. "But a reliable informant of mine has confirmed Meredith is bragging about a mission that involved a magical eye and two wands."

As everyone gasped in surprise, Tonks' blood ran cold. Clearly, it was a direct reference to Moody's eye and wands. The memory of his painful death reverberated in her mind.

"It's a distinct possibility one Death Eater paid Meredith to deliver Moody's possessions to me and had no other dealings with Death Eaters. However if there is the slightest chance this hustler can give us a lead, we should follow it," concluded Kingsley.

"He's probably just spouting lies and exaggerations just so his pub mates will buy him a pint or two," Tonks argued, who agreed with Kingsley's assessment that Meredith had no real dealings with Death Eaters. It was pointless to track this petty criminal down and interrogate him, thought Tonks. It was almost a certainty this Meredith knew nothing. The wizard probably was approached by a masked Death Eater in some anonymous alley and given a handful of gold to send a package and that was the extent of his connection with You Know Who and his minions. However, Tonks could understand why Kingsley wanted to pursue this wizard; the Order was reeling over Moody's murder and they were desperately looking for revenge and justice.

"It doesn't matter – even if Meredith can only give us a description of whoever gave him Moody's eye and wands, we need to follow through with it," the black Auror said. "We'll make a show of force just to prove to this Meredith we mean business. A team made up of myself, Remus, Arthur, Martha, and Bill will persuade Meredith it would be in his best interests to tell us everything he knows."

Tonks made the decision not to pass this mission along to Voldemort. Meredith, who had no real connection to the Dark Lord or his followers, was clearly a dead-end and therefore the information of the Order's decision to pursue him was unworthy of passing along.

**x**

**x**

A short time after the runes were set in place in and around the Granger home, Harry and Susan returned from the local grocer with several weeks' worth of food and supplies. The red-head was still giggling about how bizarre Muggle stores and how their money made no sense to her while Hermione began casting the Fidelius Charm. Once the Charm was complete, Hermione – the secret keeper – told her parents, Harry, Daphne, and Susan the location of her parents' house.

"That was very strange," Paullina commented. "Before Hermione told me the secret, I had no idea where I was. It felt like I was in a nightmarish fun-house where everything was topsy-turvy."

"Will you two be okay?" Hermione asked nervously.

"Yes, we'll keep ourselves busy trying to get everything in order and ready for the move," reassured Ed.

"Now, Hermione, if you need someone to talk to, just pop over," Paullina urged as she hugged her daughter. "You can share even the slightest bother with me."

As mother and daughter said their farewells, Ed moved to Harry and stood next to the wizard. He whispered so that only Harry could hear; "I'm not a violent man, Harry, but did you mean what you said earlier?"

"Yes, sir, he'll pay for what he did," he returned. To Harry, it wasn't a threat, but a promise.

With a quivering lip and words that seemed to rip at his soul, Ed spoke; "He hurt my little girl and I want him to suffer."

Ed took a calming breath to compose himself and went to say goodbye to Hermione.

**x**

**x**

Across the street from the now magically hidden house, the two M. L. E. officers slowly began to stir. Just as Susan planned when she magically altered their memories, they believed they were watching a Muggle home and began an ill-planned drinking game where they'd take a shot of firewhisky every time they saw an automobile pass. They remembered taking shot after shot as the vehicles drove through the street before them. Neither one realized there were so many strange Muggle devices, or so they thought.

Holding their throbbing heads in their hands, they tried to remember what house they were watching. Unfortunately, they couldn't recall. The two believed a combination of the alcohol and the knock on their heads they received when they fell had addled their memories.

"What the hell should we do?" the first asked nervously. "We can't go back to headquarters and say we got drunk and misplaced the house."

"No, we can't. How about we just go get a spot to eat? Maybe some food will help us remember," offered the second.

"That'll do nicely. Besides, it's not like the house is going anywhere even if we can't recall where it is exactly."

**x**

**x**

As they entered the hut that had become their home, the silence was a tangible thing between the four lovers. None of them really knew what to say. A simple_ "everything will be okay"_ to Hermione was out of the question because of the tumultuous occurrences that had happened to her. Not only was her rapist a free man, he had also convinced the Ministry to arrest and persecute her. This, added with the war with Voldemort, made a statement like _"everything will be okay"_ insulting and demeaning. Obviously nothing was _okay_. So, Harry, Hermione, Susan, and Daphne stood in the hut, wishing that one of them find the words that would make them all feel better. But none had the slightest clue where to start.

Harry wanted to reassure Hermione like he had with her father that Ron would pay for his heinous crime. But this only seemed to dig up the painful guilt Harry felt over the assault. Could he have stopped Ron from raping Hermione if he had not been in the void where the demon bonded with him? Would he have been able to see the warning signs? Not likely, he realized. Not only was Ron known for being rash and impulsive – which would have made his actions hard to predict – Harry realized he often turned a blind eye to Ron, especially when he argued with Hermione because he hated to be between his two friends when they bickered. This meant any hostilities Ron would've shown to Hermione would've most likely been ignored by Harry as just the red-head's typical behavior.

Susan considered telling a joke to lighten the mood; some lighthearted comment along the lines of _"Well, at least this way your parents will be traveling."_ But she knew that it would be in poor taste and she held her tongue.

Daphne didn't even try to pretend she knew how to ease her lover's pain. She knew of no words that could comfort Hermione.

After several long minutes, Hermione looked at her friends and lovers and asked in a small voice; "Can you hold me?"

Much like the time Susan and Hermione had ventured into the Hogwarts library and had dashed back into the hut with Daphne in tow, the three witches were huddled together – with the brunette in the middle – while they leaned against Harry on the large bed. Whereas they were in this position before out of fear and had sought protection with one another, this time they did so to comfort and share in their pain.

**x**

**x**

The sounds of spoons and forks clinked against dinner plates could be heard under the conversations at the Weasley home.

"Have another helping, Ronnie," urged Mafalda, scooping another serving of steak and kidney pie on to her husband's plate. "You need energy for your job and a nice big dinner will do just that."

"_Dinner_, this is my breakfast," commented Ginny lightly and she took a sip of pumpkin juice.

"When are you going to get a better shift, dear?" asked Molly. "The overnight shift is dreadful."

"I don't know, I've kind of grown used to the wonky hours," Ginny said. "Besides, night is when I can help the most – most Death Eater attacks happen then. Yeah, I know I just take fire-calls, but I still feel like I'm part of the Ministry trying to help end the war."

"You _are_ a vital part, Ginny. When people call, they're frightened and scared. Your presence on the other end of the fire-call tells the victims help is on the way. And that is very important," Arthur said encouragingly. He added with a little more than a hint of self-pride; "And we in the Order are doing our best to end the war, too."

"Oh, please, I don't think pestering common criminals like this Cuthbert Meredith character is going to end the war," Molly said disapprovingly. "He'll know nothing of any importance. Sending you and Bill with a load of other members is pointless."

"Molly, we need to follow any clues..." Arthur continued to argue and Ginny turned her attention to Ron.

"What about you? How'd your proposition go?" she asked her brother.

"Oh, that's right, I didn't get to tell you the news," Ron said while chomping on a mouthful of food. "I got it. You're looking at the head of the task force."

"That's brilliant!" the young witch cheered happily, "Do Mum and Dad know?"

"Yeah, Dad was proud and Mum went barmy of course," he said as if it was the most obvious outcome.

"To be honest, I didn't think you'd get the lead. I was just hoping you'd get on the force," Ginny said. "I told you to aim for the top hoping that you push yourself on the team. But this is brilliant! Have you started looking for her?"

"Yeah, but there's already been a setback. The M. L. E. had two officers watching the mudblood's parents. Me and my team were going to go to the Muggles' house and take them in for questioning. By the time I got everyone ready, the two officers who were watching the house showed up at headquarters. It seems they '_misplaced'_ the Muggles' home," Ron said with anger to his voice. "Those two got chewed out for over an hour by Wright. He put them on suspension for two weeks without pay for their foul-up."

"They misplaced it? How'd they do that?" she asked.

"They're not the only ones! It's the weirdest thing. There's no records of their house and no one can remember where it even is," Ron said.

"Oh, that bitch," Ginny groaned out. "She put it under the Fidelius. Clearly, she knew her folks would be brought in and she hid them."

"That tramp, she's one step ahead of me again," Ron growled. He gripped the fork in his hand so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He so wished he could slam his fist in that mudblood's face, just to show that bitch her place. Blood flowed into his organ at the thought of Granger kneeling before him with a bloodied face, looking up at him with fear in her eyes.

"Well then, you'll just have to leap forward and be one step ahead of that bitch don't you?" Ginny offered.

"How'd you mean?"

"Simple, if you can't go at her directly, take a side-route," she suggested.

"Go on."

"Granger and Daphne Greengrass are lovers. It's a good bet Greengrass would know where Granger is."

"But isn't that bitch shagging the bloke who attacked me?"

"She's probably fucking both of them," Ginny said with a shrug. "She's devious enough to play two people like that. And we know for a fact Granger would be willing to use her body to get what she wants."

"That's a good point. But what if Greengrass is in hiding with Granger?"

"She's probably is. If I were you, I'd head over to Greengrass' parents' house and out her," she said, nibbling on a piece of meat.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well, it's a safe bet the Greengrasses are an old-fashion pureblood family. They'll freak when they hear their daughter's a dyke," she explained. "If the Greengrasses outright deny the truth concerning their daughter, I'd drop subtle hints like asking whether or not she's brought any boyfriends home to visit them lately. That'll get them angry, I'm sure. And while they're fuming and arguing that their daughter isn't a rug-muncher, I'd have one of my assistants sneak off and find something of Daphne's – like an old hairbrush. Then use the hair found on the brush and key it to a Detection Charm. That way, when Daphne returns to the house – which she'd sure to do because her folks will want to have a stern talk about her love life – I'd be alerted and then I could follow her back to Granger."

Ron smiled. "Do you mind if I use your idea?"

"Of course not."

**x**

**x**

The sun was starting to set. The sky was turning purple outside the hut's windows. Harry and his witches, as he now easily referred to them as, were still huddled together on the large bed. They had stayed in each others' arms for several hours without saying a word more than Daphne requesting to move a little because her leg was falling asleep.

Not only could Harry feel the demon feeding off his witches' excess magics through this close contact, it also warmed his heart. It seemed as if the touch of his witches had diminished the pain he was feeling. And he knew that Hermione, Susan, and Daphne were experiencing the same sense of warmth. Harry, who had never felt any affection like this – full of comfort and innocence – would have gladly spent the night in his witches' arms. The feeling, warmth and smell of them, their skin, bodies, and hair, filled the wizard with such happiness and he did not want it to end.

However, the screech of an Acromantula from outside the hut effectively changed this wish. The four quickly separated and rushed to the window. There, a hundred feet away, was an Acromantula – about five feet wide – scurrying across the open field to the Forest.

"Do you think it came from the castle?" asked Daphne as the giant spider bolted to the trees.

"No," Harry said definitely. "The demon killed all of the spiders in the castle. Besides, this one only smells of the forest. It hasn't been in the castle for months."

"What is it doing out of the Forest?" Susan asked.

"Either hunting for food or curious as to what happened in the castle," speculated Hermione.

"Doesn't really matter, it's dead," Harry said, walking to the door.

"Be careful, Harry," urged Hermione. "We don't know how many Acromantulas are in the Forest."

"Don't worry. I'll get this one and be back before any of the other monsters knows what happened," he said confidently and walked out of the hut.

Once he was free of the confines of the building, Harry let lose the demon. Like before it leapt at the chance to be in control. The wizard changed into the demon in an instant. His clothes and robes were turned into shreds by demon's massive form.

"Remind him to strip before he changes," Susan said offhandedly to break the tension. "I'm tired of repairing his clothes."

The demon sprinted after the retreating spider. His long legs propelled him quickly to the edge of the trees where the spider had vanished.

The dying sun's purple and orange light stretched the shadows on the edge of the Forest and gave them a rich blackness. The light was all but completely swallowed a few feet deeper into the Forest.

As Harry observed the demon pursuing the Acromantula, he recalled how the giant spiders had a nest deep within the Forest – he had traveled there in his second year at Hogwarts. It was highly unlikely the nest had remained at such a distance. Harry felt it was safe to assume there was now at least one large nest closer to the edge of the Forest because the monstrous spiders no longer felt the need to hide themselves.

The wizard also recalled his conclusion that numerous Acromantula bites could prove fatal to him. He had no intention of testing this theory. All he wanted was to kill this one Acromantula as a warning to the other spiders in the Forest to not venture on the school grounds again.

Despite the demon's speed, the distance between him and the Acromantula was growing. The dense underbrush and roots tripped the demon several times. He was able to correct himself before he crashed to the ground, but this slowed his pace. The Acromantula darted over the numerous obstacles easily like it had run this path several times before.

A massive, dead tree that had fallen some time ago was in the Acromantula's path. Without hesitating, the giant spider flattened its body low to the forest's floor and scurried through a gap under the dead tree.

Harry felt the demon's legs flex and kick. He felt the air blow by his face as the demon jumped twenty feet into the air, soaring over the fallen tree. The earth shook when the demon landed, crushing and pulping the roots and foliage under his feet. While kneeling, the demon looked up to find his prey.

Surprisingly, Harry saw the Acromantula standing a dozen feet ahead of him. The monster was facing the demon. Harry wondered why the Acromantula stopped. When the demon stood up, the Acromantula dashed down a narrow path. Unlike Harry, the demon paid the odd action of the giant spider no thought and immediately renewed his chase.

As the Pryapux Demon sprinted through the narrow path, Harry observed movement out of the corner of the beast's eyes. The demon, so blinded by his blood lust, did not notice this. All he cared about was sinking his silver fangs into the Acromantula's shell.

As the demon raced through the trees and brush, Harry noticed even more movement – this time all around him. He cursed. Harry finally realized why the Acromantula had stopped moments before: it was leading the demon into a trap. It explained the spider's odd pause when the demon had jumped over the fallen tree; it didn't want to lose him. The demon was so blinded by his bloodlust, he had not noticed the danger signs.

Harry ordered the demon to retreat, to turn away from the obvious trap and return to the hut. Shockingly, the demon denied Harry's command and continued to chase the spider. Harry tried to reign in the demon, to force it back down into his belly. But the beast was too strong. His lust overpowered Harry's will. Suddenly Harry realized he made a grave mistake in releasing the demon and giving it free-reign when he had transformed. Even though Harry was the Pryapux's master, the demon had somehow been freed from his control, if only temporarily.

The Pryapux leapt on the spider, crushing its shell beneath his paw-like feet. That was when the first wave of Acromantulas attacked. Dozens and dozens of spiders descended upon the demon like waves crashing on the beach.

**x**

**x**

"Oh, Merlin," moaned Daphne.

"It's a trap!" Hermione stated, her blood running cold.

The three witches sensed Harry's dread through their connection.

"The bloody spiders laid a trap for him!" exclaimed Susan.

With a steely determination, Hermione drew her wand and marched to the door.

"Damn Gryffindors," mumbled Daphne with fear and dread, as she too pulled her wand. Susan quickly joined the black-haired witch and they followed Hermione out the door.

**x**

**x**

The screeching, rage-filled cries of the horde of Acromantulas reverberated through the Forest, causing the trees and ground to tremble. Hundreds of the monsters piled on top of the demon that had slaughtered their brethren in the castle like a massive, moving black hill. The young ones that were the size of a dog or smaller were not strong enough – their teeth could not puncture the Pryapux's tough hide – but there were many that were. Their fangs sunk into his arms, legs neck and chest, ripping open skin and muscle and filling him with their venom.

Still consumed by his blood lust, the demon attacked wildly. He swung his arms and legs with abandon, kicking and slashing as many of his attackers as possible. Even though the poison coursing through his veins made the demon dizzy, he still killed as many of the monsters as he could.

However, for every spider the demon killed, two more joined. In a few moments' time, there were dozens of dead Acromantulas at his feet and hundreds more trying to bite him.

Harry, who was also affected by the poison, ignored his growing nausea and tried to reassert his control over the demon again. He wanted to flee, but the demon was still in command of his body.

Another pair of fangs punctured the demon's arm. He howled in pain and stumbled. The blood in his veins felt as if it was boiling, burning him from the inside out. The demon's arms started to grow cold and his vision blurred as he swung his fists at the attacking spiders. The screeches of the Acromantulas began to sound as if they came from the end of a very long tunnel, not screaming in his ears.

Atop a nearby hill, a massive spider cheered. "That's it my children, kill him! We shall have our revenge! _Kill him!"_

This spider, Marrgon – eldest offspring of Aragog and Mosag – watched as another dozen of his children fell to the demon. It pained the spider to see his offspring die, but it was a necessary sacrifice. They needed to destroy the foul demon that had killed their brethren nesting in the human's castle. At Marrgon's side, his mate and sister Akaas, was silently mourning the required loss of their young when she suddenly screamed in agony. Bright blue flames engulfed the female spider. The heat from the fire instantly cracked her thick shell and cooked her organs.

Marrgon spun around to find three human females brandishing wands. He shouted in surprise as the three launched fireballs at him. The flames licked his exoskeleton. The massive spider jumped at the three humans. The two flanking the brunette each cast Fireballs. The first hit three of his left legs, ripping them from his body in a painful explosion. The second hit where his thorax met his abdomen, blowing his body cleanly in two. After crashing to the ground, the remaining legs kicked wildly in death throws.

Waving her wand in a circle over her head, Hermione continuously cast a powerful Flame Hex. She fueled this spell with her anger at the Acromantulas for their actions in killing children as well as her desire to save Harry. A blue flame flowed from the tip of her wand, coiling and spiraling outward in a long rope of flame twirling around the three witches, as she, Daphne, and Susan approached the pile of Acromantulas.

Susan and Daphne cast a rapid series of Fireball Hexes at the mass of spiders. Their aim was slightly hindered by their trembling hands. Some of their hexes went wide, missing the spiders by feet. But many were true and struck the pack of Acromantulas. The two fired off one fireball after another as they slowly approached the pack of spiders.

In a few seconds, the three witches had set over fifty spiders on fire. Many ran, screaming into the Forest while some kicked and screamed on the ground while the flames engulfed them. Soon, Hermione saw one of the demon's arms jutting out of the pile of withering spiders.

"Get him out of there!" she commanded while still casting her Flame Hex rope.

Susan leveled her wand and cried; _"Accio!"_

As the massive demon was magically pulled out of the pile and toward the three witches, a number of smaller spiders latched onto their prey. Before her panic could sink in, Daphne fired a number of Fireballs. Some hit the spiders squarely, while a few hit the demon's black skin and ricocheted off. The demon soared through the rope of flame and landed at Susan's feet. The red-head cried out as a spider the size of a large dog lumbered toward her. Even though flames ate at its shell, the monster was desperately trying to attack Susan. Another quick flick of Daphne's wand sent a small Fireball at the attacking Acromantula. The spider screamed before its shell popped open from the heat of the flames.

"Oh, my God!" said Daphne in horror as she gazed down at the demon that was Harry. Dozens of puncture wounds crisscrossed his entire body.

"We've got to get him out of here," stated Susan, looking around in fear. Even though the stream of fire from Hermione's Flame Hex still coiled about them in a circle, the red-head saw scores of Acromantulas just out of reach of the bright blue flames, threatening to overcome them at the first possible moment.

"First, get that venom out of him before it does any more damage!" commanded Hermione. The continuous casting of the hex was starting to take its toll upon her and beads of sweat poured down her face.

Daphne waved her wand over the demon and incanted; _"Depello Toxicum!"_ A viscous, green liquid bubbled out of the demon's many wounds. The charm the black-haired witch cast forcibly pulled the poisonous venom from his body. As the venom continued to flow out of his wounds, Daphne informed, "This won't cure him! It'll just prevent the poison from harming him further. We'll need to heal the damage that's already been caused. And judging by how much is coming out, I'd guess there's a lot, it may even be fatal."

"I know! I'm hoping the demon will be strong enough to fight the poison if we get the venom out of his system!" stated Hermione. "Once we get back to the hut, we can work on healing him."

A moment later, the flowing liquid stopped. "Okay, it's all out… _hopefully_" Daphne announced.

Finally, the Pryapux's hold started to wan. Even though the venom had been removed, it had weakened the demon greatly. Using this weakness to his advantage, Harry reached out with his mind and took hold of the demon, forcing it down into his belly.

A low, grumbling moan escaped the demon's lips. Suddenly, the beast vanished, and in his place laid Harry, groaning in pain. Much like the demon, Harry's body was peppered with bite wounds which slowly seeped blood.

"Let's get out of here!" Hermione shouted.

Susan tapped her wand on Harry's bloodied chest and incanted; "_Levicorpus._" The wizard lifted up into the air.

While Hermione continually cast the powerful Flame Hex, the three made their way out of the Forest with Harry floating between them. Their escape was hindered by the thick roots, underbrush and large rocks that covered the forest floor. The light from Hermione's Flame Hex illuminated the area around them, revealing dozens of Acromantulas just waiting for the brunette's spell to falter so they could attack.

"Oh Merlin, they've surrounded us," warned Daphne as she launched three quick Fireballs in different directions. Each blast set a few spiders running for cover. But even this tiny accomplishment was short lived as even more Acromantulas filled the empty spaces their brethren had left.

"Just—_uh_—just get to the _hh_-hut," Hermione groaned out. Her blue flames were the only thing keeping them from being overrun by the Acromantulas and it was exhausting her. A burning sensation filled her arms and chest. She did not know how much longer she could keep the spell up.

As Hermione struggled with her hex, the other two witches launched Fireball after Fireball. Despite killing a number of the spiders, the monsters kept coming, trying to advance on the four humans. Some Acromantulas were brazen enough to try to duck under Hermione's coiling fire only to be either hit with a Fireball from Daphne or Susan or cut in half by the very rope of flame they hoped to dodge.

After what felt like hours, the four broke through the lines of trees. Now that the hut and safety were in sight, Hermione shouted; _"RUN!"_

Daphne and Susan grabbed Harry by the shoulders and pulled his hovering body behind them as the three witches sprinted to the open door of the hut. The Acromantulas increased their pace as well. The witches felt the vibrations of the stampeding Acromantulas beneath their feet. Hermione ignored her exhaustion and the painful stitch forming in her side. A few more feet and they'd be safe in the hut.

With one final lunge the three witches crossed over the invisible bounder created by Aragog's body buried in the ground and jumped into the hut. Tumbling across the floor, the four ended up in tangled lumps against the far wall. Even Harry, who Daphne and Susan still held on to, ended up crumpled against the wall. The Acromantulas came to a screeching halt just as they reached Aragog's grave, unable to advance further.

Panting, Hermione struggled to stand. "Put him on the bed," she said weakly.

"I take it this means we have to _'feed'_ him?" asked Daphne.

"Yes, I'm fairly certain healing potions do not work properly on Harry now that he's bonded with the Pryapux," the brunette stated. "And we know that the demon gains strength from sex."

"So in order for Harry to heal we have to boink him. Oh, great, I get to shag a comatose man again," the red-head said.

"I'm not comatose," groaned Harry. He propped himself up on his elbows, his arms trembled with the effort. The lingering aftereffects of the Acromantula venom caused his stomach to clench and spasm. "I feel like I'm going to get ill."

"Hermione, you over exerted yourself with that Flame Hex. You sit out the first round," Daphne offered. The black-haired witch sat next to Harry and began flicking her wand rapidly, causing the numerous puncture wounds to close.

"That's actually a good suggestion," Hermione said, flopping into a chair.

While still magically mending his lesions, Daphne told Susan; "How about you get Harry ready."

"What a life we live, huh? One minute, we're in danger of becoming Acromantula chow, the next, I'm giving head," she said, positioning herself between Harry's legs. Susan took his flaccid organ, gently stroking it with her fingers before wrapping her lips around his crown. The wizard's organ grew to its full, impressive size in little time under the red-head's efforts.

**x**

**x**

Like many of her peers, Lavender Brown dropped out of school after Dumbledore's funeral out of fear – the school was no longer safe. Sadly, her fears were proven right a few months previously when the school was destroyed. Her average OWLs score were slightly below Acceptable, and the only decent job she could land was a lowly receptionist in the Ministry of Magic building. It didn't pay very well, forcing the blonde to live with her parents.

Dressed in her nightgown, Lavender brushed her hair in preparation for bed. Her eyes fixed on the mirror, watching the bristle of her brush drag through her blonde hair, checking for split ends. The Wizarding Wireless was on for background noise. The reporter was going on about another tragic Death Eater attack where an entire family was murdered in their home. Lavender tuned out the dreadful news and focused her attention on the mundane task of dragging the brush through her hair over and over again.

Then, just as the reporter finished and the Weird Sisters' latest hit began playing, she saw the seven white masks staring at her in the reflection of the mirror. The brush fell from her hands as her blood ran cold.

"Hello, Lavender, we have to ask you a few questions." one Death Eater, a woman who spoke in a sickly child-like voice, said.

"Where's your former house-mate?" another asked.

Lavender recognized this voice. She had heard it taunt Harry and his friends more times than she could count. She didn't need to look into his grey eyes to tell that it was Draco Malfoy hiding behind the mask.

"_W—wh—_what do you _w—_want with Parvati?" she asked their reflections, too frightened to turn around.

With a flick of his wrist, Draco leveled his wand at the blonde, snarling; _"Crucio!"_

Screaming, Lavender fell out of the chair and crashed to the floor. Her back arched sharply as agonizing pain racked her body. After a few seconds, Draco released the curse.

"Stupid bint. Why the hell would we want that wog?" Theodore Nott said cruelly.

"Please, Ted, try and remember that Lavender here has the same level of intelligence as a flobberworm," Pansy said, her eyes twinkling sadistically.

"Where is the mudblood? Where is Granger?" Draco asked in a loud clear voice.

"_I—_I d_—du—_don't _nuh_—know," Lavender stammered, trying to recover from the Cruciatus Curse.

Draco knelt next to the cowering blonde. Gently placing the tip of his wand next to her temple, he incanted _"Crucio!"_ Lavender thrashed on the floor, screaming in agony.

As his victim convulsed, Draco eyed her breasts which had sprung free from her nightgown as she thrashed about in agony. It was a shame that she was so old. If she had been at least four years younger, the blonde would have sent his blood racing. Then again, Brown was a witch, not some Muggle. A Muggle was a low thing, an animal. The things Draco did to Muggles for pleasure wasn't considered infidelity because Muggles weren't like magical folk – such rules didn't apply to them, not according to him and those like him. But since Brown was a witch, like Pansy, Draco couldn't entertain such thoughts because that would be disrespectful to the witch he loved. Regardless, watching Brown thrash about, half naked, was stimulating.

Pansy was torn. She saw how Draco watched the blood traitor writhe on the ground. A part of her wanted to reach under his robes and stroke him while Brown screamed. But another part of her wanted to drive her knee as hard as she could into his groin for even looking at the blonde slut in such a way. This latter urging was beginning to overpower the former. So much so that Pansy found her leg twitching, eager to strike at Draco. She bit her lip and suppressed her desire to punish her lover.

Draco lifted the curse and warned; "Tell me what I want to know or I'll hurt you again."

"_Mm—_my parents _wh—_will hear… _th—_they'll s—save _muh—_me," Lavender whimpered.

"You are right about her being as smart as a flobberworm, Pansy," Bellatrix mocked in her child-like voice. "She actually thinks we didn't take care of her mummy and daddy before we came in here."

All the Death Eaters save for Pansy – who was still concerned over her internal struggle – laughed uproariously over Bellatrix's taunt. Millicent added thickly; "Two quick Killing Curses saw to that."

Lavender's eyes grew wide. "_O-oh God. Oh God!"_

"Now, now, Brown, you don't have to end up that way. Tell us what we want to know and you'll be fine." Draco played with her, toying with her fears. _"Where—is—Granger?"_

"_I—I—_I _duh—d—d—_on't—don't know," she stammered in fear and pain.

"Are you certain you can't help us?" he asked, twirling the tip of his wand in her silky locks. "Because if you don't, well then I'll be force to hurt you."

Lavender thought frantically. She had seen her former Housemate once or twice over the last few months but had never attempted to make contact with her. Desperately, she tried to think of something to tell her attackers, anything at all to save her skin. But nothing came. Her mind was so terrified she couldn't think of anything, not even trivial details of Hermione.

"I'm afraid, Brown, tonight is going to be a long, painful night for you," Draco said. _"Crucio!"_

**x**

**x**

A few short minutes after Cuthbert Meredith and a cheap prostitute entered a filthy alley, the wizard drunkenly staggered out, hiking up his trousers.

Across the street, four wizards watched the intoxicated Meredith stumbled down the sidewalk, still fumbling with his zipper.

"Where the hell is Martha?" asked Bill Weasley.

Always one to find the best in people, Arthur offered; "Maybe she got tied up and is running late."

"We can't wait for her any longer," Kingsley said. "Besides, I think the four of us should be more than enough to handle Meredith."

Kingsley led Remus, Arthur, and Bill directly toward Meredith. The four Order members spread out with the intention of surrounding their target. However, just as they began to encroach on the drunken wizard, a black robed figure appeared out of thin air in front of the Auror without a sound.

The four Order members froze in their tracks and looked into Voldemort's red eyes. His cold, high voice mocked; "It's comforting to know the Order still makes foolish mistakes even under your new leadership, Shacklebolt."

Suddenly, dozens of loud cracks announced the arrival of Death Eaters, completely surrounding the wizards.

**x**

**x**

The red and black-haired witches lay on their backs next to each other on the bed, shoulder to shoulder. Susan had her arms wrapped around Harry's neck and her legs around his hips as he thrust into her hot center. His hand snaked down, between Daphne's legs, plunging and pumping two fingers into her sex as his thumb flicked and rubbed her clit. Hermione, who had recovered slightly from her exertion was still on the chair across the room, had tugged down her knickers and was now pushing two fingers in and out of her quim in tune to her heartbeat while her fore and middle fingers from her free hand aggressively rubbed her swollen and sensitive clitoris.

Susan was moaning loudly in his ear. Daphne's thighs had clamped together, pinning his hand in her, as her lithe body trembled under his touch. And Hermione was calling out his name in a scream as another orgasm claimed her. The beast in his belly gobbled up their energies while Harry reveled in the feeling of his witches. The hot, sweat coated flesh of Susan wrapped around him, Daphne's sticky release coating his fingers, and Hermione's peals and groans echoing off the walls.

Through their bond, the witches all shared their own pleasure as well as Harry's. It had not only heightened their arousal, but also served to quicken it. They experienced each other's orgasms.

With an animalistic growl, Harry's organ jerked in Susan's womanhood, squirting his seed. Another thrust sprayed more of his discharge. His testicles seized up, launching a third and fourth spurt. It flooded her, gushing out her lips and covering his scrotum.

Through their bond, Susan shared Harry's ecstasy. The feeling of his organ jerking inside of her and the hot globs of cum pouring out of her combined with the sensations he felt as he climaxed sent Susan over the edge for the fourth time that night. As with each time before, Hermione and Daphne's pleasure peaked.

Harry stilled, allowing himself to catch his breath. Riding out her ecstasy, Susan's womanhood quivered, massaging his hard organ, milking it. Finally, Harry pulled out. Susan groaned and a large dollop of his seed and her wetness poured out of her, staining the bed sheets. The white mess stood out in high contrast to her flushed and burning skin. She looked down at him, admiring his soaked organ still pointing up at the ceiling.

"It's Daphne's turned to get poked," she said with a smile as her heart continued to pound and flutter wildly.

Eager to quell her fire, Daphne sat up and pushed herself into Harry's muscular, scar-covered chest, trapping his wet member between their bodies. She kissed him hungrily, tasting Susan on his lips and tongue. A moan rumbled through her throat and she rubbed her bosom against him, his scars tickling and scratching her sensitive nipples. She pushed at him, guiding him onto his back. Once he was lying down, the slender witch straddled his hips and reached down to take hold of his impressive manhood, holding it in place. Slowly, Daphne lowered herself. She held her breath as his length and girth stretched her out. She gulped down a quick gasp of air once she rested on his lap and their black hairs intertwined.

Biting his lip, Harry let himself become lost in the moment. Daphne's hot, dripping sex wrapped around him, Susan's aroma filled his nose, and Hermione's soft moans continued to sing to him.

**x**

**x**

The door to the Greengrass home opened. A man with prominent flecks of white in his black hair looked at the two men in M. L. E. robes.

"Good morning, Mr. Greengrass," Ron greeted the older wizard. "I'm Ronald Weasley and this is Ianto Rhisiart. Pardon the early hour, but we're here on official M. L. E. business."

"_M. L. E. business_? What ever for?" asked Robinson Greengrass.

"It's about your daughter, Daphne, sir," stated Rhisiart.

"What about her? Is she in trouble?"

"No, not necessarily, Mr. Greengrass," Ron said. "May we come inside and discuss this further?"

The older wizard ran his hand through his hair nervously before responding; "Yes, come in."

As her husband ushered the two M. L. E. officers into the foyer, Donita Greengrass called from the first floor balcony; "Robinson, who's here?"

Not wanting to get his wife involved in this obvious misunderstanding, Robinson call out; "It's nothing, dear."

"It's about your daughter, ma'am," Ron who needed both Greengrasses' attention for his plan to work interrupted. "We have a few questions concerning her… _friend_."

"What are you insinuating by '_friend'_, sir?" demanded Robinson. He did not like this young wizard's knowing tone.

As Donita rushed to join her husband's side, Ron placated the older wizard's temper. "I'm sorry, sir, there just some rumors concerning a relationship between Daphne and a wanted suspect."

"Wanted for what?" demanded Robinson.

"Conspiracy and the murder of a Ministry officer," he replied.

The married couple shared a worried look.

"Surely Daphne and this wizard you're looking for are nothing more than passing acquaintances," offered Donita.

Ron erected his _"surprised and curious"_ face. It was a look he had practiced for an hour before a mirror the night previously. Ginny had predicted the Greengrasses would assume he was looking for a man, and said Ron could catch the couple off guard. "A _wizard_? I never said I was looking for a wizard."

The Greengrasses were taken back. When Ron had said the word "_friend_" in such a knowing way, they had assumed he had meant that it was a romantic relationship. When the M. L. E. officer mentioned they were looking for a witch, Robinson and Donita were very confused. The notion of their daughter having anything other than a platonic friendship with another witch was such an alien concept to them, it had not even entered their minds even after Ron's implication.

Ron pulled out the most recent photo he had of Hermione and presented it to the married couple. It had been taken sometime after Dumbledore's funeral and before the students had taken the Hogwarts' Express back for the summer holiday. Ron had stumbled across the photo in his old room at the Burrow the night before, discarded in the corner. If he had found it anytime earlier, he would've burned it right on the spot. He hated to be reminded of that traitorous bitch and what she had done to him. But now he could use the photo to help track down the mudblood. He had carefully folded the sides of the magical photo as to not show either himself or Harry who were standing at the brunette's shoulders.

"Who is that?" demanded Donita.

Ron was hoping this would happen. In another practice act, Ron furrowed his brow. "You mean to tell me you don't know who this is?"

"Of course we don't," snapped Robinson. "Who is it?"

Ron leaned forward. "It's the witch we're looking for."

"We've never seen her!"

"Really? Your daughter's never mentioned her?" he asked. A smile stretched the edges of his lips. Out of the corner of his eye, Ron saw Rhisiart sneak off just as planned.

"Why should she?" asked Donita, falling into Ron's trap.

"Her name is Hermione Granger. She's your daughter's lover."

The Greengrasses looked at Ron with their mouths wide open.

"_Y-_you can't be serious!" Robinson said, finally recovering form the shock.

"Our Daphne is not a dyk—," Donita snapped angrily. The older witch quickly recovered her composure and corrected; "She's not a _lesbian_. We would know."

"Oh, my mistake," Ron said. "I've just heard rumors and the like. It's not as if your daughter's not shown interest in male suitors lately."

Donita and Robinson shared another look. They both remembered how they had to practically twist Daphne's arm to agree to a date with the nice young man, Cobblepot. Had the reason their daughter been so reluctant was because she was involved in a lesbian relationship?

"I'm sure fine, upstanding pure-bloods such as yourselves wouldn't raise a daughter who would so openly scoff at our traditions and remove herself from producing children to carry on our traditions," Ron said, twisting the knife.

"No, no of course not," Robinson said, half-heartedly, already doubting his faith in his daughter.

"Then again, seeing that you are a traditional family, I could see why your daughter would hide such a thing from you," added Ron in an off-handed manner.

"We are not some kind of blind fools who would turn our backs on our own daughter just because she is going through some phase!" Donita said. Like her husband, she, too, worried her daughter had strayed. Even though she claimed not to be upset by Daphne's alleged relationship, she was quite hurt. As she spoke to the red-haired M. L. E. officer, her mind replayed the fantasies she had since her little girl was born; where she would cry on the day that Daphne married a nice wizard and, a year or two later, her daughter would proudly present Donita with her new grandbaby. But now, if what this wizard said was true, all those hopes and dreams were all for naught.

"I think it's time for you to leave, sir," Robinson told Ron curtly.

"I'm so sorry about the misunderstanding, Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass," Ron apologized while smiling from ear to ear. Rhisiart walked up to Ron and tapped him discreetly on the shoulder, signaling that he was successful. The plan had worked perfectly. Ron successfully planted a seed of doubt in their minds while Rhisiart set up the Detection Charm. The Greengrasses would contact their daughter, set up a meeting and confront her about what they just learned, and Ron would be there to follow the dyke back to the mudblood bitch who had hurt him so. "When you see Daphne, could you tell her we need to talk to her, just to clear things up?"

"Of course," Robinson agreed out of courtesy and led the two M. L. E. officers to the door.

Once outside, Ron and Rhisiart Apparated back to M. L. E. Headquarters.

"While you distracted the Greengrasses, I found Daphne's room and one of her old hairbrushes," Rhisiart stated as the two made their way from the Apparation point to their small office. "I keyed the Detecting Charm to some of her hair like you told me to. If Daphne steps foot in her parents' house, we'll know."

"And I can guarantee you her folks are writing her a post as we speak, demanding that she come over so they can sort this whole dyke thing out," Ron said.

"Once she shows up, we'll be alerted and pop over there and then follow her back to her mudblood girlfriend." Rhisiart thumped Ron on the back. "Brilliant plan mate. We'll have Granger in custody in no time."

Ron nodded, eagerly taking credit for the plan that Ginny had given him the night before.

Just as Ron and Rhisiart entered the office, Segundus rushed up to them. "Weasley, I was about to go fetch you. You need to get to St Mungo's right away," he said with urgency. "It's your dad and brother."

**x**

**x**

His hands felt good on her bare back as he massaged her muscles. They were large and rough; the way a man's hands should be, she mused. Even though she had just woken from a deep restful sleep, Hermione was about to doze off again thanks to Harry. He was straddling her rump – his genitals resting between her naked buttocks – and he was kneading and rubbing her back in long, firm strokes. The oil Daphne had conjured, which was charmed to warm under Harry's touch, helped ease the soreness and fatigue that Hermione felt since her rescue of the wizard.

For Harry, this act was more intimate on a different level than sex. It showed that Hermione trusted him completely – she allowed herself to be naked beneath him and gave herself to him.

The other two witches were cuddling an arm's length away. Daphne was leaning into Susan while the latter twirled her fingers in Daphne's long, black hair. "I call dibs on the next massage," Susan said.

"Hmm," was the best response Hermione could muster.

"I could give you a massage," offered Daphne.

"Yeah, but you've got girly hands," the red-head replied. She paused to smell Daphne's hair, savoring her aroma, and added; "Harry's got big hands. He can really work out the kinks and knots."

"That's what I was just thinking," Hermione mumbled contently.

A few minutes later, when Hermione felt as if her body was made of jelly, Harry announced "Okay Suze, it's your turn."

"Do you mind if I just lay here?" asked Hermione with her eyes half closed as Susan and Daphne separated. "I don't think I can move an inch."

Susan responded by flopping next to the brunette.

Harry crawled over one witch to the other as Daphne conjured more warming oil for him to use on Susan.

"Harry, we could sense that you knew it was a trap. So why didn't you just order the demon to retreat?" asked Susan with a content purr as the wizard rubbed her sore muscles. "After all, you're supposed to be the demon's master."

"I did," he replied. "The damned thing refused my command and it was too powerful for me to control."

"But, you're its master," repeated Susan as Harry pushed his thumbs into her shoulder blades.

"Yeah, that bit perplexed me, too."

"Maybe the master doesn't have complete control," offered Daphne.

With her eyes closed, Hermione added "It could be that the master can only direct the demon on who or what to attack. Sort of like a mad attack dog: you just order it to attack and it leaps at the opportunity."

"But what about that the instance you read where the master ordered the Pryapux Demon to wipe a village off the map and the demon practically did just that?" asked Harry.

"It could have been an exaggeration," speculated Hermione. "The wizard who controlled the demon at the time, Crysilix was his name if I remember correctly, may have claimed he ordered the Pryapux to level the village after the fact in order to instill fear in his enemies."

"So, in other words, the demon is a mad, rabid dog that's virtually uncontrollable," summarized Daphne.

"Not necessarily," said Harry. "I was able to unleash a portion of the demon when I knocked out those two M. L. E. officers who were watching Hermione's house. I left the demon's consciousness, the blind lust, locked away and I retained control."

As Harry continued to work his hands on the red-head, he commented; "That was stupid of me to let the demon have control and chase the Acromantula. Not only did I nearly get killed, but I almost took the lot of you with me."

"I'll forgive you if you keep up the rubbing," Susan said playfully. "Massaging all three of us is your penance for being a stupid git."

"I'm serious. I let the demon take control and it rushed headfirst into a trap. Worst of all, I should've realized it could've been a trap. I should have done what I did earlier in the day and only let the demon's power out and kept its lust under control."

"But you ran off, like a typical Gryffindor," commented Daphne. "Leaping before you look, consequences be damned."

"Hey, I'm a Gryffindor, too," objected Hermione, sleepily.

"Yeah, and you ran out of here into the forest the moment we sensed Harry was in trouble like a woman possessed," countered Daphne.

"She's right," Harry said. "We Gryffindors are known for acting before we think."

As he pressed his fingertips into Susan's soft flesh and dragged them down her back, Harry contemplated Daphne's words. Not only had he himself made mistakes in the past by _"leaping before he looked"_, as Daphne put it, but so had Sirius. When Harry's parents were murdered, Sirius ran after Wormtail without even a single thought to the consequences. Because Sirius acted before he weighed his actions properly, he not only doomed himself to spend twelve years in the living hell of Azkaban, but he also removed himself from Harry's life. Harry doubted Dumbledore would've allowed Sirius custody, preferring the adolescent boy live with his aunt so that the blood protection could be reinforced. But at the very least, Sirius could have been a factor in Harry's upbringing. He could've visited the boy, making sure Harry was treated properly by the Dursleys and telling Harry tales of his parents and the magical world. However, Sirius rushed off, blinded by vengeance much like how the Pryapux was blinded by lust the night before, and harmed both of their lives with his ill-thought-out plan as Harry had almost harmed himself and his witches.

"From now on, I will not allow the demon full control, and I swear I won't blindly rush into situations like some fool," he announced.

**x**

Ron was so distraught over his family's well-being he had considered shunning civil behavior by rudely Apparating directly into St. Mungo's waiting room as opposed to the designated Apparation point. When he appeared just outside the concealed building, the red-head rushed as quickly as he could through the opening.

A loud crack sounded behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a pale faced Tonks running up to him. The two rushed into the hospital's waiting room where the rest of the Weasleys, save for Bill and Arthur, had gathered.

"What the hell happened?" Ron and Tonks demanded, almost in unison.

"Oh, Ronald!" wailed Molly, throwing her arms around her son's neck.

"We were set up," announced Remus, who had a blood-soaked bandage around his head, as he walked into the waiting room.

Trying not to let panic set in, Tonks asked her lover, "Are you all right?"

"Yes, just a scratch," he said. "Kingsley and I made out better than the rest."

"Oh, Merlin, no," whimpered Ron, fearing the worst.

"They're alive," Remus said. "They have to re-grow all the bones in your father's legs and feet. But he'll be up by morning."

"What about Bill?" he asked.

Ginny, who was practically sobbing hysterically, cried out; "They took his arm! Those bastards hexed off his whole arm!"

"Can't they re-grow it?" Ron asked frighten by the thought of the pain his brother was suffering.

"No, they can't!" his sister screeched. "It was a Dark Curse that cut off his shoulder! There's nothing the Healers can do!"

With that, Ginny collapsed into a chair and let her tears loose. She cried into her hands, her sobs rocked her body.

As Molly, Mafalda and Ron tried to comfort Ginny, Tonks turned to Remus. "What about Martha? Was she hurt?"

"No, she wasn't even there," he replied in a whisper so no one could overhear. "We waited for her, but when she didn't show, we moved on Meredith. That's when Voldemort and a dozen Death Eaters showed up. Kingsley gave the order to retreat and we activated our emergency Portkeys as fast as we could. But we were still hit with a number of hexes."

"Where is Martha now?" asked Tonks.

"Kingsley went to go fetch her and find out what happened," Remus said. Wringing his hands fretfully, he spoke; "They knew we were coming. It was a bloody trap and we walked right into it."

Tonks placed her hand on Remus' shoulder in a comforting gesture while trying to mask her expression. She was horrified by the ambush, but at the same time Martha had shown her hand. Through her absence, Martha confirmed that she was Voldemort's spy. Once Tonks had dealt with the spy, she could free her parents and herself from Voldemort.

**x**

**x**

With a whoosh sound, Johan Blaor and his assistants arrived in a dilapidated shack, just outside Chamonix-Mont-Blanc, France. A short, round, elderly wizard waddled up to the Johan.

"Bonjour, Monsieur Blaor," he said. "Welcome to France."

"Monsieur D'Arras?" asked Blaor.

"In the flesh!"

"It's a pleasure to meet you, sir." Blaor shook the wizard's chubby hands. "Minister Godfrey speaks highly of you."

"And how is ol' Festus?" D'Arras asked jollily.

"He is very well."

"Thanks in no small part to your wonderful new potion, no?" stated D'Arras in fractured English. "Now those pesky Muggles won' be bothering him any longer."

"Minister Godfrey is a wise man and saw the potential of my idea."

"Aha, you are too humble, Monsieur Blaor." D'Arras chuckled. "How soon do you think you can start handling our Muggle problem here in France?"

"My assistants and I will start brewing the necessary potions and then deliver it to the Muggle treatment plants over the next few weeks."

"Would you mind if I were to give you more helpers?" asked D'Arras. "I can guarantee their loyalty. And with their help, you can – how do you say – _knock out_ the potion and deliver it in no time."

"That is very generous, sir, thank you," accepted Blaor.

"I have already taken the liberty and contacted some friends in Germany and Belgium. Once you are finished here in France, they would like to use your potion as well," D'Arras said. "Of course you'll be compensated for your work. But that goes without saying, no."

Blaor's breath was taken away, not by the thought of gold, but the good and noble deed he was about to perform.

"Perhaps I can even teach the men you give me how to brew my potion," Blaor said. "Then, after we deliver it to the Muggle water treatment plants here in France, your men could go to Belgium while I go to Germany."

"That is a wonderful idea, Monsieur Blaor!" cheered D'Arras. "Maybe my men can teach some witches and wizards in Belgium while you teach more in Germany and they can go forth as well?"

"We could change the world for the better in this generation!" Blaor felt as if his chest would burst wide open with pride.

**To be continued…**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Fourteen

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and non-consensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major canon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from canon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

Early the next morning, as his witches dressed, Harry's heightened senses picked up a commotion deep within the Forbidden Forest. He heard a number of the Acromantuas gathering at the site of his ambush the day before. Harry could pick up the sounds of the giant spiders eating the corpses of their fallen. But something else caught Harry's attention. There were a number of Acromantulas gathering in the center of the commotion. These spiders were not participating in the feast but were involved in some debate or conversation. Even with his heightened sense of hearing, Harry could not make out what the monsters were saying. As he lay on the bed, the nude wizard announced, "I'm going back into the forest."

The three witches froze for a moment and then slowly turned to face Harry.

"Are you completely nutters?" asked Susan.

"Harry, you almost died!" lectured Hermione.

"Hell, we _all_ almost died!" added the buxom red head.

"You promised last night you wouldn't rush off like a silly Gryffindor again!" protested Daphne.

Harry replied; "It's strictly a reconnaissance mission. I can hear a bunch of Acromantulas gathering in the forest. I'm just going to sneak in and see what they're up to."

"You're not going to take them on?" asked Hermione nervously.

"Not unless I'm forced to. And I do mean only if it's a last resort. I'll stay in the treetops and just get close enough to find out if they're planning to retaliate again. If they even look in my direction, I'll take off."

"I suppose you have to discover if the Acromantulas are up to something," Hermione said, worriedly.

Harry crawled out of the bed and embraced Hermione. He said softly, "Don't worry. I'll be very safe."

Daphne ordered sternly "If you're spotted, you get out of there as fast as you can."

"I will," he said and kissed the black haired witch. He kissed Susan and walked out of the hut.

With her eyes fixed on Harry's naked backside, Susan commented "At least he's not wearing his robes so they won't get torn to shreds this time."

Harry made his way to the edge of the forest. He reached down into the pit of his stomach and released a large portion of the demon, leaving the blind lust of the monster caged. In an instant, the wizard transformed from his natural human form into the massive beast.

Unlike before, where Harry let the beast control his actions and movement, he was the one in command. He could feel the Pryapux Demon struggle against him. It wanted to take control and feed its gruesome blood lust. Harry forced the monster down, deeper into the pit of his belly. He would not let the demon seize control from him. The beast's unquenchable hunger and unrelenting desire to fulfill it made the Pryapux Demon a threat to itself and Harry. The monster had charged headlong into a trap and nearly cost Harry and his witches their lives when they came to rescue him. Harry would never let that happen again.

In his monstrous form, Harry climbed to the peak of a tall tree. Flexing his legs, he kicked off and soared to another tree some twenty feet away, easily. Repeating the process, Harry leaped to another tree. The wind howled in his ears as he rocketed through the air. He effortlessly jumped nearly twenty-five feet to the next tree and had to quell a shout of excitement that threatened to jump from his mouth. It was thrilling for Harry to have so much power under his command. When he had unleashed the demon and killed every Acromantula in the castle, Harry had just been an observer. Now that he had complete control, the sense of strength and power thrilled him even more.

A few more leaps and Harry traveled several hundred yards into the Forest, where the giant spiders had laid a trap for him. The Acromantulas gathered in that spot once again. Scores of spiders were eating the corpses of their brethren that had been killed by the demon, Hermione, Daphne and Susan the previous night. They chomped and gnawed on the shells and organs of the fallen with abandon. Their instinctual need to consume their dead overpowered these Acromantulas, driving them into a cannibalistic feeding frenzy.

But the reason for Harry's curiosity was located in the center of the orgy. There, around a small hill, two dozen or so Acromantulas gathered with their backs turned to the other spiders eating their dead. These Acromantulas watched as three massive spiders argued on top of the hill. The largest of these spiders reared up on its back legs in order to rise above the others in an attempted show of dominance.

"I, Pekret, am the strongest," it boasted. "Therefore, I should become the leader now that Marrgon is dead!"

"Strongest? Bah!" one of the other two on the hilltop challenged. "I, Muutrl, am older and wiser than you. I should be the leader!"

The third and final spider on top of the hill shouted; "You claim to be the wisest yet it was _I_ who conceived the plan to lure the demon into a trap!"

"You incompetent oaf! Your trap, Swartil, not only failed to kill the demon but cost us the lives of hundreds of our brothers and sisters!" snarled Pekret.

"Including the lives of our beloved Marrgon and his mate Akaas!" Muutrl snapped his fangs at Srawtil, threateningly.

A number of the spiders gathered around the three large Acromantulas in the center hissed and snarled at Srawtil. The few that did not added their voice in support of Swartil with cheers. It was clear to Harry that the Acromantuals gathered around the hill had divided up into separate groups; each one supporting Pekret, Srawtil or Muurtl. The spiders that favored Srawtil shouted out their support.

"If it hadn't been for the demon's mates, we would've had our revenge!"

"Srawtil will come up with a better plan if made our leader!"

"We will have revenge yet!"

"Another trap can easily be laid for both the demon and his mates!"

The other groups that supported Muurtl and Pekret shouted arguments at Srawtil's supporters. The argument quickly became heated and insults and threats were tossed about. Many Acromantulas encroached upon each other and hissed menacingly. Some even pushed and shoved their opponents in a clear attempt to start a fight.

From his hiding place in the trees, Harry smiled. The Acromantulas were fighting with one another to see who would lead them. He watched as four spiders knocked down one of Srawtil's supporters to the ground and then proceeded to beat and pummel it with their legs. It was evident to Harry if the Acromantulas continued to bicker and fight amongst themselves they wouldn't be a threat to him and his witches.

Then Muurtl, the self-proclaimed the oldest and wisest, shouted; _"CALM YOURSELVES! _Srawtil's folly has cost us dearly! It will take us generations to recoup the losses we suffered yesterday!"

"We should punish Srawtil for his failure!" Pekret snapped.

A number of the Acromantulas surrounding them cheered and began to advance on Srawtil.

"No!" Muurtl cried out. "Do not harm Srawtil!"

"Why not, Muutrl?" Pekret demanded. "Is it because you think Srawtil did the right thing and killed our brothers and sisters in a foolish plan?"

"No I do not, Pekret. Do not put words into my mouth," Muutrl shot back. "We lost far too many of our brothers and sisters! We cannot afford to kill our own when our numbers are so low!"

The Acromantulas who clearly supported Muutrl, the ones who had not accosted Srawtil or his supporters, cheered. Pekret and his group of supporters took a step back. The mood of the Acromantulas appeared to become calmer and more sedate.

Harry could not have this. If the one called Muutrl gained control then the Acromantulas would not fight each other. Thankfully, Pekret had a different idea.

Pekret lunged at Muutrl and sunk his massive fangs into his opponent's shell. Muutrl screamed in pain as his organs were puncture and poison raced through his veins. The Acromantulas who supported Muutrl let out screams of their own as they attacked Pekret and his followers. In the chaos and carnage, Srawtil was overrun by five Acromantulas. Harry could hear dozens of shells being cracked and pierced by fangs and legs. Pekret reared up, howling in agony while three of his fellow spiders clung to his back, sinking their fangs into his body and filling him with deadly poison.

As he witnessed the battle below, Harry observed the weaker and smallest spiders that were eating the fallen turned from their frenzy to the fight on the hilltop. Panic seized them when the saw the battle on the hill and they bolted deeper into the forest. It was clear they did not wish to join the fight with their brethren nor get caught in the middle and were running for their lives.

From his perch high in the tress, Harry smiled as an idea formulated in his mind.

**x**

**x**

Ron was not a patient wizard; waiting for the glass orb to light up, informing them that the mudblood's lesbian lover had returned to her parents' house, was tasking what little patience he had. The stress of waiting for something to happen was enough to give him a throbbing headache. But the constant staring at the orb to see if it would begin to glow had strained his eyes which added to his discomfort. The pain and torment his family was suffering did not help his mood. Ron's father was allowed to go home just this morning with a bag full of potions he had to take every four hours to help him heal, whereas Bill was still in St. Mungo's undergoing extensive treatment. Ron grimaced in concern for his brother: the poor wizard lost his wand arm in the fight with _You Know Who._ Bill would need to relearn almost every spell he knew until he was used to using his off-arm. Thankfully for Bill, his fiancee was proving to be a great help. Fleur was ready and willing to assist Bill in any way necessary.

With all of Ron's woes and concerns, a strong headache developed. The red haired wizard had laid his head on his desk in an ineffective attempt to gain some relief. Groaning, Ron demanded; "Anything yet?"

Leaning back in his chair, Marshal gave the orb in question a quick check. He replied in a bored tone, "Nothing yet." He returned to reading the _Daily Prophet_ and muttered under his breath, "Same as it's been the last twenty bloody times you've asked."

"It's a waiting game, Weasley, you just have to be patient," Rhisiart said, offering his years of experience.

"Yeah, it's only a matter of time before the Greengrasses will crack and demand their daughter come home so they can confront her about her being a rug-muncher," added Marshal. "Then we can nab her and get the mudblood."

Ron grumbled to himself, wondering if he should've pressed Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass more in order to get a quicker response. He wondered if he should've flat out told them that their daughter was involved in a lesbian affair instead of just saying there was a rumor about Daphne's indiscretions.

Strumming his fingers on the desk angrily, Ron lifted his head up and glared at the glass orb. He wished it would start glowing so he could arrest Daphne and find where that treacherous mudblood was hiding.

Suddenly, Segundus rushed into the small office with a wide, face-splitting grin. "You blokes gotta come see this! It's fucking brilliant!"

"We can't," Ron said. He added bitterly; "We've got to keep an eye on the orb."

"You lads go ahead," offered Rhisiart. "I'll stay and keep an eye on it."

Ron hesitated. The desire to arrest Granger burned in his belly. It was almost a sexual need in him to arrest her. His loins stirred at the thought of how much power he would gain over the bitch when he finally chucked her into Azkaban. Whatever Segundus wanted to show them was unimportant in comparison.

Rhisiart pressed; "Weasley, if you sit here staring at that thing all day long you'll drive yourself barmy."

"You have to come, Ron," urged Segundus. "It's bleedin' hilarious."

"I tell you what; if that orb so much as glimmers, I come get you straight away," offered Rhisiart.

"Fine," grumbled Ron as he stood, knowing if he had not relented his three subordinates would nag and harass him to no end. This would only make his headache worse than it already was.

As Ron, Marshal, and Segundus walked away from the office Ron asked the latter; "What are you showing us?"

"Pete Cummins, some veteran Auror, was taking a walk in that Muggle park a block away when he saw a wizard using the Imperius on three Muggles," Segundus said with a light chuckle.

"How's anything to do with the Imperius funny?" asked Marshal. Both he and Ron were surprised Segundus found the use of an Unforgivable humorous.

"The berk risked a life sentence in Azkaban just to see three Muggles shagging in the park!" replied Segundus.

"What?" Ron blurted out.

"Yeah, he used the Imperius to get three Muggles to do it in public!"

Just then, a frantic cry echoed through the corridor. "PLEASE! FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!"

When Ron and his subordinates entered the booking room they found over twenty witches and wizards watching their supervisor, Wright, glowering at an unknown wizard whose hands were magically bound behind his back. Tears were flowing down the restrained wizard's face. Clearly the suspect's outburst and use of an Unforgivable Curse had drawn an audience.

"Please, sir, I didn't do nothing!" the sobbing wizard exclaimed.

"That's not what Cummins here says," Wright said, pointing to a middle-aged wizard standing behind the suspect. "He says you put three Muggles under the Imperius."

"At least three, sir," Cummins said.

"What do you mean?" Wright asked.

"Well, sir, the other Muggles – the ones just walking about the park – paid no heed to the activities started by the suspect," he explained.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" the suspect whimpered.

"Go on," Wright said to Cummins.

"It is highly unusual for people to have sex in public sir. Not only is it socially unacceptable, but it's a crime as well. It's unheard of to have three people openly fornicating on a public bench. But I witnessed the Muggles who passed by do nothing. Even the Muggle law enforcement officers didn't react."

"Maybe it's a Muggle thing," a wizard who stood near the back wall offered.

"I'm a Muggle-born," Cummins returned. "Muggles don't just ignore such things. The perverts – like the suspect – will watch while others would be greatly offended. Hell, I saw a mother with two kids under the age of ten simply walk by the fornicating Muggles as if it was a mundane, everyday experience."

Wright looked at the suspect and said; "It looks like you're off to Azkaban for the rest of your miserable life."

"Check my wand!" the suspect implored frantically. "Check to see if I've cast any dark magic!"

Wright nodded to Cummins. The Auror riffled through the suspect's pockets. After retrieving the wizard's wand and handing it to Wright, Cummins continued to search in case the suspect had a second wand. While Cummins frisked the suspect further, Wright performed Prior Incantato on the confiscated wand. A smoky, ghostlike image of the robes the suspect was wearing drifted out from the tip of the wand and floated in the air.

"See! The last spell I used was a Cleaning Charm this morning," the suspect cried out, desperately trying to prove his innocence. "I cleaned my robes this morning and haven't cast nothing else!"

Wright looked to Cummins. "Could it be possible that he had another wand he ditched before you arrested him?"

Cummins replied; "No, he didn't see me approach. If he had another wand, he had no time to dispose of it."

"Maybe it was just a fluke," someone in the room offered. "Maybe this bloke just came across three Muggle going at it and no one else paid it any attention for one reason or another."

"I watched the suspect for several minutes," Cummins said. "He told them to do things and they did them."

"How so?" asked Wright.

Cummins sighed. "Besides asking the participants to smack each other, he asked the women to share the man's discharge which they did eagerly and without hesitation."

Wright looked at the suspect. His eyes burned into the wizard's skull as he said; "Explain what happened."

"Yes, sir," the suspect shrunk under Wright's gaze. "I was just walking through the park as I do everyday when I saw this Muggle couple snogging. Well, I'm a dirty perv like the Auror says and I watched 'em. The bloke sees me and he threatens me – says he'll beat me 'till next Tuesday for watchin'. I tells him to calm down and he does. I says to him to ignore me and go back to kissin' his lady friend and to my surprise he does.

"Well then, I figured since he listened to my first two suggestions why stop. So I says to him he should grab her titties and he does. I didn't really stop to wonder why they were listening to me by this point, I was just having a grand time. Next, I tell the lady she should grab his bits through his trousers and she starts rubbin' him right there and then like I told her to."

Ron furrowed his brow. Had the suspect come across a pair of Muggles that got a kick out of being watched? Did they follow the wizard's suggestion out of some sort of fetish? But that clearly wasn't the case because the Muggle man originally threatened to beat up the wizard. Why, then, would the Muggles follow the wizard's suggestions?

"Then some old prudish bird stopped by and started to scold us like a schoolmarm," the suspect continued. "I tell the old bird to sod off and mind her own business and she says to me that I've got a point and walks off.

"Well by this point, I'm figuring that if they've listen to me so far, why not go do a bit more. I say the word and she's topless and has her face in his lap, suckin' his bits. A few other people noticed and a copper began to harass me, and just like I did with the old bird, I tell them all to mind their own business and they do just that! They all just walked away without another word."

The suspect's face turned a bright red over the memory he was describing.

"Then this gorgeous young thing with big ones walks by and I says to her she should join in on the fun. And then all three of them – the bloke and his lady and the woman with the big tittes – are naked and doing everything I'm tellin' to do! No matter how dirty it is, they just do it without a question or hesitation!"

Again, Ron was taken aback. Why would a Muggle obey a magical person so willingly if the Imperius was not cast?

Wright looked at the suspect for a good long moment before asking; "You're saying you cast no spell whatsoever and all of these Muggles simply did as you suggested, no matter how outrageous it was?"

"I swear on my mother, sir, it's the honest truth."

"Cummins, until this all gets sorted out, place the suspect in the holding cells," ordered Wright. As the Auror dragged the crying wizard away, Wright pointed to Segundus and asked; "Do you know where this Muggle park is?"

"Yes sir," replied Segundus.

"I want everyone dressed as a Muggle and at the park in five minutes," Wright shouted out. "Find any witnesses and ask them what happened. And be discreet, damn it. I don't want to have an incident."

Following their orders to investigate the Muggle park; Ron, Marshal and Segundus as well as everyone else who was present during the interrogation changed into what they thought Muggles wore. Ron donned high lacing hiking boots, checkered golfer's slacks and an orange, sleeveless blouse while Marshal wore a dinner jacket and a kilt. And Segundus wore swim trunks, sweater, and a floppy hat with flowers.

As a group, the twenty wizards and witches briskly walked to the park. Once they arrived, Ron broke off and approached a middle aged Muggle reading a newspaper.

"Pardon me, but did you see anything… strange just a few minutes ago?" he asked.

The Muggle looked up from his paper and asked in return; "You'll have to be clearer. This is London after all and many strange things happen here."

"Three people having sex in public," the red-head clarified.

"Oh, yes, right over there on that bench," the man pointed to a bench twenty yards away.

"Didn't it bother you?" asked Ron.

"Oh, please," the man said returning to his newspaper. "I have more important things to worry about than a few people getting their jollies."

Marshal trotted up to Ron. "Come here, you've got to see this."

Marshal led the red-haired wizard to a very attractive, endowed woman. He turned to Ron and said "Ask her if she saw the threesome."

"Did you happen to see three people having sex on that bench over there?" asked Ron pointing in the direction he was just told.

"See it? I was in it?" the dirty-blonde woman replied, blushing.

Ron looked to Marshal who explained; "I found her getting dressed behind a tree and asked her what she was doing and she told me."

Ron asked the woman; "Do you often… do _it_ in public?"

Before she could reply, Marshal said; "Excuse my friend's rudeness. He's had a rough day."

"Oh that's fine," the woman said. "And to answer your question, no, I've never done anything like that. I'm usually much more selective when I have sex. Much more—my mates tell me I'm too prudish at times and need to loosen up. I'm not one to hop in a stranger's bed. And I've never done it with another woman before. Hell, I didn't even catch their names."

"Why'd you do it if you're so… _selective_?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," she said, shrugging her shoulders which caused her breast to jiggle slightly. Clearly the woman wasn't wearing a bra. "I was just walking by, and a little man in a funny robe pointed to some topless woman giving head to her boyfriend and said I should join in."

"And you did? Just because he told you to?"

"Well I guess I was so turned on by what the two were doing…" Her face burned brighter with a combination of embarrassment and arousal. "I didn't know what came over me… Like I said, I'm not one to hop in bed with someone normally. But just seeing those two, I couldn't help myself."

Ron turned to Marshal and asked in an undertone; "What should we do?"

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Marshal suggested; "We should see if she under some kind of spell. I'll do a quick spell finding charm on her."

As Marshal pulled out his wand, the woman asked; "Are you with the orchestra?" clearly mistaking his wand for a conductor's baton.

"Something like that," said Marshal before casting the charm non-verbally. "Nothing's showing up."

"I'll cast a Finite on her, just in case," offered Ron as he too pulled out his wand. He tapped the wand to the woman's head and incanted _"Finite."_

"You two are strange," the woman said with a giggle.

"Now what?" Ron asked Marshal.

"The suspect claimed the Muggles did whatever he suggested. Maybe we should ask her to do something," theorized Marshal.

"Like what? It'll have to be something out of the ordinary. I mean we can't just ask her to something she'd normally do."

"Why not?" asked Marshal.

"We thought she was under the Imperius or something like that because of what happened," Ron explained. "If we want to make sure she isn't under any spell, we'll have to ask her to do something she wouldn't do normally."

"I know," Marshal turned back to the woman and asked in a polite manner "Would you mind showing us your breasts?"

"What are you doing?" barked Ron.

Marshal defended; "Don't worry. We'll just Obliviate her—"

Ron and Marshal's eyes nearly popped out of their heads as the Muggle woman tugged open her blouse to reveal her large, pink breasts to them without hesitation. She stood there, holding her blouse open, unfazed and unashamed as both wizards stared at her naked chest.

"Why are you doing this?" Marshal asked. The wizard was floored. He had not expected the woman to comply and had said the suggestion as a joke. He half expected her to smack him in the face.

"You said ginger here was having a bad day," she said, indicating Ron. "So I figured most blokes like to look at titties and thought that'd be a good way to brighten his day."

"Um, thanks," muttered Ron still staring at the Muggle's endowments.

While the woman still held her blouse open, Segundus joined Ron and Marshal.

"This is strange," Segundus said, openly ogling the woman before him. "Simmons just got some Muggle to strip naked and do a jig just by asking her to. And Leach asked a Muggle to give him his shoes and the bloke did. Took them right off his feet and handed them to Leach without a question."

Ron pulled his attention away from the bare-chested woman and looked around the park. Everywhere he looked, he saw Muggles doing strange things; dancing poorly, singing off key, and more than a few were stripping. And for each Muggle acting strangely, Ron saw one of his coworkers egging the Muggle on.

"This is strange," he said, echoing Segundus's comment. Ron's gaze returned once more to the Muggle's exposed breasts. He swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. A need quickly built in his loins.

Laughing, Segundus thumped Ron on the back. "You gonna make it there, mate?"

"Show him some fine titties and Weasley turns into a gibbering wreck," chuckled Marshal.

Blushing the famous Weasley red, Ron muttered; "Sod off."

"Hey, you're lucky. At least you've got a wife to take care of that particular issue," Segundus complained. "Me, I've got to take care of myself with my own hand."

Cocking an eyebrow, Marshal began; "Maybe you should have our new friend here help—"

Marshal paled as realization dawned upon him. If he finished his comment suggesting the Muggle satisfy Segundus sexually, the woman would have surely acted it out. He looked at the Muggle woman and said "This could be a problem."

"Yeah," echoed Segundus. "Let's get everyone back to the station and make our report."

Ron furrowed his brow. He normally wasn't the quickest study and his mind was preoccupied with his building urge which distracted him further. The red-haired wizard was about to ask why Segundus and Marshal were concerned. Then Ron saw a wizard named Blaunkfrount who was one of the cadets he had graduated with. Roger was looking around nervously as he walked to a clutch of trees in the middle of the park. A pretty Muggle in a flower printed skirt followed Blaunkfrount. She was not concerned or anxious like the wizard and appeared to Ron as if she trusted Blaunkfrount completely. As they walked, Blaunkfrount's robes became bunched up and pulled at his midsection, revealing a bulge in his groin. The two disappeared into the trees and a short while later Ron could hear muffled moans coming from the same place Blaunkfrount and the Muggle vanished.

"Looks like Blaunkfrount's got the same idea you had, Marshal," commented Segundus.

**x**

**x**

"Are you okay?" asked Hermione as Harry entered the hut. She knew the answer thanks to the magical bond she shared with Harry, but she still needed to hear it from him.

"Yes, I'm fine," he said. After slipping on his robes, Harry took a seat at the dinner table.

"Do you need to feed?" asked Susan.

"No, I didn't exert myself at all," he answered.

"So what'd you find out?" inquired Daphne.

"Their numbers are significantly lowered thanks in large part to you rescuing me. And those numbers are going down even further. They're now fighting and killing each other," informed Harry.

"What ever for?" asked Daphne.

He replied; "They're battling each other to see who will be their new leader."

"Does that mean they won't be bothering us anymore?" asked Susan.

"Not en masse like they did yesterday," speculated Hermione.

"Hopefully this fight will dwindle their numbers ever more," Harry said.

"With any luck, this scuffle might grow into a civil war which could cripple their population," added Hermione.

"I'm proud of you," announced Daphne, smiling at the wizard.

"Why?" he asked.

"You didn't act like a Gryffindor," she said. "A Gryffindor would've done something foolish like attacking the Acromantulas. But you sat back and let them fight amongst themselves."

Harry said; "I have to admit I was tempted to toss a boulder into the fray, just to kill a few of them."

Noticing Harry's expression and recognizing that he had thought of something while in the forest, Hermione asked, "You have a plan?"

He said simply, "Yes."

"A plan about what?" asked the red-head.

"About Voldemort," he replied.

"Do you know where we're going to start searching for his Horcruxes?" Hermione asked.

"We're not going to look for them," he said.

Perplexed, Hermione argued; "Harry, we have to find them and destroy them. Otherwise Voldemort is immortal."

"We have no idea where to even begin," he returned.

"But Dumbledore showed you the Pensieve memories," she pointed out.

"He showed me memories dealing with Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup," he said evenly. "He showed me nothing more. Those Pensieve memories held no clues as to what or where the Horcruxes could be."

"We know Voldemort hides his Horcruxes in places that mean something to him," Hermione pressed. "Places that made an impact on his life."

"Do we?" Harry asked. "Out of the three Horcruxes that have been found – or in the case of the locket: where one was before R. A. B. stole it – only two were found in a place that had some impact on Voldemort. Remember, he gave the diary – _his first Horcrux_ – to Lucius Malfoy. It wasn't hidden in someplace that was important to Voldemort; it was given to one of his underlings. So that actually suggests Voldemort may have chosen some places at random so those Pensieve memory lessons were probably pointless.

"Besides, Voldemort vanished for years while he reportedly roamed the globe studying different kinds of magic," Harry continued. "It was foolish of Dumbledore to think that all of Voldemort's Horcruxes are here in Britain. It's easy to assume one of these far-off places having a deep and important impact on him, and hiding a Horcrux there. For all we know, he could've hidden one on the top of the Eiffel Tower or under the Great Wall. There's no way we can find out where he went much less what places were important to him.

"Then you have to consider the traps and wards he placed around the Horcruxes. Again, they prove Voldemort followed no set steps. For the locket, he hid it in a secret chamber behind numerous wards, poisons and hundreds of Infiri. But with the ring, Voldemort simply cursed it and hid it under a rock. And, as I mentioned before, he gave the diary to one of his minions for safe keeping.

"The places and protections Voldemort placed on his Horcruxes tells me he acted randomly," concluded Harry. "Yes; two places that we know of had connections to him, but one did not. For one of those places that had a connection to his past, Voldemort put up a number of protections and safe guards that were nearly impossible to overcome while the other two had little to no protection."

"I suppose you're right," admitted Hermione finding Harry's arguments sound and logical. "So what do you think we should do?"

"Kill him." Harry smiled.

"Harry, Voldemort's virtually immortal with his Horcruxes!" countered Hermione.

"Not completely; his spirit can't be killed _but_ his body can be destroyed. Much like it was when he tried to kill me as a baby," he stated. "It took him years to resurrect himself. If he were to repeat the same ritual, he'll first have to create that hideous fetus body to house his spirit them perform a complex ritual. It will take him time to do so. Even longer if he doesn't have one of his lackeys to aid him."

"Are you suggesting you kill all of the Death Eaters after you take out _V-V-_Voldemort?" asked Susan who was still struggling to overcome her fear of the dreaded villain's name.

"Not necessarily," he replied. "During the first war, a few of his followers claimed they acted under the Imperius and sought absolution. Some, like Bellatrix and her ilk, lashed out and attacked the Longbottoms. It was tragic but it was also foolish and they got caught.

"If I were to destroy Voldemort's body, we'd see the same things that happened when the last war ended. Some will claim they were forced to follow Voldemort because of the Imperius, a few will act foolishly. A few will try to help Voldemort resurrect himself. In those cases, we'll kill them – take any assistance away from the bastard.

"It's not a permanent solution by any means. Nor is it perfect," Harry continued. "But Voldemort is the Death Eaters' brain: they don't do much of anything without direct orders from him. Without constant orders from him, a good portion of his minions will basically shut down. That or they'll act impulsively and get caught. If Voldemort is gone, then the Death Eaters won't be as great of a threat as they are now."

"Harry, you said it yourself; Voldemort will just perform the same resurrection ritual as before. Since he's already done it once before, he will more likely than not be able to prepare himself faster this time. And since he's proven to his followers he can do it, more of them will try to help him," argued Hermione.

"Yes, but like I said before; he'll need to make that disgusting fetus body of his which will take time," he responded. "And in that time, we can hunt down his inner-circle and take them out, limiting the people who can help Voldemort."

"What about the impulsive ones – the ones like the Lestranges," Susan said somberly. "They'll act recklessly and will probably get caught, but they'll hurt people like they did to Neville's parents."

"Yes, people will get hurt. Death Eaters are very dangerous," admitted Harry. "But they're not nearly as dangerous as when they're under Voldemort's commands. Without his guidance they will screw up."

"But people will get hurt," the red-head repeated.

"People are getting hurt now," said Daphne.

"Scarifies will happen. People will die," Harry said. He reached out and took Susan's hand in his. "But without Voldemort's and his inner circle's guidance, they won't be as effective nor as dangerous."

"This isn't a good plan, Harry," Daphne said and Hermione nodded her head.

"No, it's not, but it's better than us wasting our time on a globe hopping trip in an insane treasure hunt in hopes of finding Horcruxes while Voldemort's killing everyone," he said.

Hermione chewed her lip for a long moment. "How about we combine the two: we destroy Voldemort's body, kill some of his inner circle and then go looking for his Horcruxes."

Harry nodded his head. "I suppose with Voldemort trying to resurrect himself and his supporters either hiding or dead, we'll have some time to search for his Horcruxes."

"What about the demon in Harry's body?" asked Susan.

Harry lowered his eyes. He did want the beast gone and to live a normal life. But there were more important things. "We'll take care of that after we deal with Voldemort. Hey, maybe the demon will be useful in hunting down the Horcruxes."

He looked up and saw the bitter smiles on his witches' faces. It was evident they believed it was highly improbably to remove the demon at all. Again, Harry wished he could live a normal life with his three witches. He had to smile at this last thought: living a normal life with his witches. That, by its definition, was far from the conventional notion of a _"normal life."_

"So, how do you plan on killing Voldemort?" asked Susan. "I mean, we don't know where he is."

"I haven't given that part of the plan that much thought," the black-haired wizard admitted.

"That's the easy part, really," Daphne said. "We know he wants Harry. So we lure the fiend out by giving him exactly that."

"Use Harry as bait?" asked Hermione.

"Sure, I'll transfigure myself to look like a hag and stomp around Knockturn Alley saying I've seen Harry Potter lurking about in the ruins of Hogsmede."

"Well, I wouldn't go _stomping about,"_ Hermione said. "If you show up shouting _'I've seen Harry Potter'_ everyone will know it's a trap."

"Of course not, I'll be more discrete about it than that," the black haired witch returned.

"And we can set up wards and charms around Hogsmeade and the castle to alert us if someone's coming," added Harry.

"How long would that take?" Daphne asked.

"Not too long," replied Hermione. "We would have to cast some simple Detection Wards around Hogsmeade and the school grounds – I'd say every thirty to forty yards. It would take us about a day to cover all of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade if we split up. I can then tie the Detection Wards with something like the Marauders' Map."

"That was that map that showed where every body was in the castle right?" asked Daphne, recalling one of Hermione's tales of her adventures with Harry while at school.

"Yes," the brunette replied.

"But Hermione, it took the Marauders a long time to make that map," Harry said.

"I was thinking of using a simpler variation of the Marauder's Map," she said. "One of the reasons it took your dad and his friends such a long time to make it was the charms imbued in it listed the name of everyone in the castle – not to mention the charms that revealed all the passwords. If we were to make a map that just showed where someone was but there was no charm that would tell us the person's name, I could make the map in four hours or so. The time consuming part is placing the Detection Wards around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade."

"That would work," said Harry.

A black owl fluttered up to the window and began pecking its beak on the glass.

"That's Agamemnon, my parents' owl," stated Daphne.

As Daphne went to the window, Susan added; "You know if Daphne starts telling random people she saw Harry here, some folks who aren't Death Eaters or have any connection to them may come by and see for themselves. You know how popular Harry was; people will risk Acromantulas to catch a glimpse of a famous person believed to be dead."

"That will work in our favor actually," Hermione responded. "If we have people show up and see Harry then they'll return and spread the news even more."

"What will stop these non-Death Eaters from trying to bring me back with them?" asked Harry.

"That's easy, too," Daphne said, pulling the post from Agamemnon's leg. "Just unleash a bit of your demon if they get too close."

"Not only will they run away in terror but they'll tell stories about how you're a demon," Hermione said. "Then, once Voldemort catches wind you've been seen here and that you're possessed by a demon, he's sure to realize it's you not some hoax and come after you."

"What about the connection between Harry and Voldemort?" said Susan. "Aren't we risking the fact Voldemort might gain control over Harry if he's close to him?"

"I am almost positive Voldemort botched the blood binding ritual and Harry's in complete control," Hermione said.

"Still, I don't want to put that theory to the test," added Harry. "When Voldemort shows up, I'll attack and kill him straight away. I won't give him the chance to try and control me."

"That will be for the best," agreed Hermione.

"Right then, shall we get started?" asked Susan.

"The sooner the better, I reckon," said Harry.

"There's a little problem. My folks have asked me over for dinner tonight," Daphne said, holding up the post. "They said it's important."

"Is everything all right?" asked Harry.

"Oh yeah, they've just been trying to hook me up with some bloke and they're probably just wondering why I haven't contacted him to set up a date."

"I think we can at least get it started while you're with your mum and dad," said Hermione. "I'll begin working on the map while Susan can start casting the Detection Wards. You can help her once you get back from your folks."

"Just great, Daphne gets a home cooked meal while I have to stay here and do homework," Susan said with an overly forced frown. "This is worse than when I was in school."

"I'll bring you some leftovers," Daphne said, giving the red-head a gentle kiss.

**x**

**x**

A seven o'clock in the evening, the Ministry building was nearly empty. Only a handful of wizards and witches were left in the building after hours working on various tasks and paperwork while the rest had returned home for supper. One such person still working was Martha Patterson – Tonks had seen to that.

Earlier in the day, Tonks spiked Martha's subordinates Paul and Wanda's morning teas with a fast-acting twenty-four hour poison. When the two began to vomit at their desks shortly after tea, Martha forced them to continue working. But an hour later when the bouts of diarrhea began, even Martha, the cold bitch she was, had to send the pair home. This meant Martha was forced to do the work of Paul and Wanda by herself which led to her staying in her office well after she'd normally leave. Exactly the outcome Tonks had planned when she had poisoned Martha's subordinates.

The metamorphmagus hid in the shadows by the lift, waiting for her target. A few employees who were working after hours trickled out of their offices from time to time. They grumbled about having to take the stairs because the lift leading to the street was on the fritz again. A few simple charms from Tonks saw to the lift being out of commission.

Finally, after an hour of waiting, Tonks' patience paid off. A very irate and angry Martha came trudging toward the lift. The deep, pronounced frown etched on her lips and furrowed brow told the world she was in a foul mood. The extra work she was forced to do today obviously took a toll on the witch's temper, making her more of a bitch than normal.

Taking a steadying breath, Tonks steeled herself for what had to be done. She stepped out of the shadows and approached Martha.

"Well hello, Martha," she said in the most cheerful manner she could muster. "How are you doing this fine evening?"

"Good evening, Mrs. Booth," Martha dryly greeted the plump witch who looked like Mrs. Booth from job placement.

"Why are you here so late, dear?" asked Tonks in Mrs. Booth's bubbly voice. The nervousness the disguised Auror felt caused the glass of water in her hand to tremble.

"It seemed like such a lovely day so I decided to stay here and work a few extra hours as opposed to spending out on a lovely picnic," Martha grumbled in her ever present rude tone. She added through gritted teeth; "Obviously I was working late."

"I have a bit of distressing news, I'm afraid," Tonks said as she walked to Martha's side. "It seems the lifts are down again."

Martha growled as she stomped toward the stairwell. "That's the third time this week. Can't those idiots in maintenance do anything right!"

Tonks fell in step with Martha. The metamorphmagus tried to control her trembling hands as she and Martha marched to the stairwell. The two trudged up the stairs; all the while Martha grumbled and complained under her breath. The water in the glass Tonks held sloshed with each step, threatening to spill.

When they reached the fourth flight, Tonks heard the stairwell door open along with footsteps a few floors below them. It was imperative that no one saw her with Martha. Not that she was worried someone might recognize her – her special abilities saw to that – but she needed this to look like an accident and if someone saw a person walking along Martha before she died, then questions would be asked. There was also the chance that Mrs. Booth might be implicated and Tonks didn't want that to happen.

Knowing what had to be done to save her parents from Voldemort, Tonks held her breath and tossed the contents of the glass right on Martha's feet. It was clear to Martha the witch she thought was Mrs. Booth had intentionally poured water onto her boots. The witch looked at Tonks and snapped; "You oaf! What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Saving the people I love," Tonks said. With all of her might, Tonks threw her hands out and shoved Martha in the shoulders, pushing her backwards.

Martha's eyes went wide in shock and terror as she reeled back. Her arms spun about like windmills, desperately trying to regain her balance or to grab something to stop her fall. But to no avail. A gasp escaped Martha's lips as she pitched backwards and down a flight of stairs.

A loud crack echoed through the stairwell as Martha's back hit the concrete steps hard. Her body twisted painfully as she continued to tumble down. The sounds of bones breaking and dull thuds echoed off the walls. Martha's legs and hips pitched over her head and torso. She rolled down the stairs like a rag doll. The witch hit the back wall and came to rest in a heap.

"What the hell was that?" Tonks heard someone exclaim from two floors below. Then she heard Martha groan in pain. _She wasn't dead._ Tonks had to act – she couldn't afford to let Martha live.

She jumped down the stairs, three steps at a time and knelt next to Martha's crumpled form.

"_Please_ – please help me," whimpered Martha weakly.

Tonks reached down and placed her hands on Martha's chin and back of her head. Once again, Tonks held her breath as she did what had to be done. She twisted Martha's head as hard as she could. Martha let out a startled gasp as her neck snapped. Tonks let the witch's head flop forward and jumped to her feet and scurried up the stairs. She stumbled twice in her flight, banging and scraping her shins and knees. Bursting through the door to the third level, Tonks bolted to the closest cupboard. There, she magically locked the door and cast a Silencing Charm. Immediately thereafter, she threw up, emptying the contents of her stomach onto her feet. It had to be done, she had to kill Voldemort's spy in order to save her family. This thought, as justified as it was, didn't make Tonks feel any better as she wept.

Even though Martha was a Death Eater, Tonks had killed her in cold blood. Along with Mad-Eye, that made two people she had been forced to murder. Tonks took solace in the fact that Voldemort's spy within the Order had been dealt with. Now, she could seek help in freeing her parents from the evil wizard's grasp.

**x**

**x**

While Ron ate his dinner in his small cottage behind the Burrow, images of the Muggle woman and her naked breasts from earlier in the day kept flashing through his mind. When Roger Blaunkfrount had come out of the clutch of trees looking satisfied, Ron was envious. His need caused by the Muggle woman's breasts urged the red-head to follow Blaunkfrount's example. For a brief moment, Ron had forgotten he was married and was sorely tempted to ask the endowed Muggle woman to follow him into the same patch of trees that Blaunkfrount just left. Luckily, Ron came to his senses before he did something foolish. When the witches and wizards returned to the M. L. E. office, someone ratted Blaunkfrount out and Wright had been furious. At first he threatened to have Blaunkfrount chucked in Azkaban. But when Wright was informed that no spell was used and the Muggles seemed to be naturally pliable, Wright could only suspend Blaunkfrount for three days for improper behavior while on duty.

Even though Ron had not given into his urges in the Muggle park, it was still there – even hours later while he ate the meal Mafalda made for him. It was a pestering ache in his loins that distracted and nagged him.

Once his food had been devoured, Ron set his fork down and looked his wife in the eyes. "Mafalda, honey, why don't we hop in bed," he said with his eyebrows wriggling suggestively.

The plump witch gave him a peculiar look. "Ronnie, we can't do that. I'm with child."

"Oh, come on," he protested. "I'll be real gentle. Besides, you're not that far along. The healer said we could do it up until a couple of weeks before you're due."

"I don't want to risk it, Ronnie," she returned. "This is our first baby and I want it to be perfect and healthy and beautiful. I'm worried that if we do _it_ now, it could hurt the baby."

Ron frowned. A stray, angry thought entered his mind – if Hermione had denied him, would he have just pushed her to the floor and taken what was his?

Clenching his jaw hard, Ron forced this violent urge down. He could never do that to Mafalda. She was a proper witch and deserved to be treated as such. Whereas Granger was nothing more than an uppity mudblood who asked for such treatment, his wife was a good witch

Ron entertained the idea of slipping out and returning to the Muggle park. Perhaps he'd be lucky and run into the same blonde Muggle who enticed him so much. He reasoned that such an act of infidelity would not impact his marriage. For if Mafalda did not know of his indiscretion it could not hurt her or their relationship. He justified his wayward thoughts further by placing the blame solely on Mafalda – yes she was a proper witch but she was not performing her wifely duties to the red-head's satisfaction which was forcing him to consider adultery. So, Ron reasoned she would be to blame if he did return to the Muggle park.

Unaware of her husband's thoughts of unfaithfulness, Mafalda blushed and stated "I could help you with it though."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

The witch formed her fingers and thumb in an _"o"_ as if she was holding an invisible rod. She then pumped her hand up and down.

Ron smiled. It wasn't as good as the real thing, but he would not have to resort to infidelity.

A few minutes later, Ron and his wife were in the bathroom. She was sting on the edge of the tub while he stood before the toilet with his pants around his ankles. Mafalda squeezed a sizable dollop of hand lotion into her palm before taking hold of Ron's semi-hard manhood. She moved her hand up and down his shaft in a slow, rhythmic motion for close to a minute. "Isn't it supposed to be getting harder?"

"Try a little more pressure," he said.

As his wife applied a modicum of force to her pumping, Ron closed his eyes and tried to imagine that he and Mafalda were actually having sex. He pictured her underneath him as he plowed into her womanhood. But this had no effect. His organ was only half its normal firmness.

Frustration quickly built in him. He had to lower his expectation to a lousy hand-job in the bathroom instead of proper sex. And now he could not even get hard enough to get off.

Ron changed the scene that was playing out in his mind. He abandoned the fantasy of sleeping with his wife in exchange for the blonde Muggle that had tempted him so much earlier in the day. He imagined walking into the park and finding the woman where he had left her. After leading her to the patch of trees, he told her to undress. She willingly obeyed his command. The memory of her naked breasts caused his blood to flow.

"There we go," commented Mafalda as her husband's rod hardened.

"Hush," Ron silenced her. Her voice threatened to break his concentration.

The scene progressed. The blonde was on her back and Ron lay on top of her. He imagined what it would feel like when his organ slipped into her and his body shuttered. She moaned into his ear. Knowing that she would do everything he said, Ron told the Muggle to become louder. Her moan grew. _Louder_, he commanded and the woman's moan turned into a scream.

"Harder," he grunted. Mafalda obeyed but it was not enough. He barked _"Harder!"_

The witch redoubled her grip and his organ turned a dark purple.

"Faster," he ordered.

"Ronnie, I don't want to hurt—"

Growling in frustration, Ron reached down and wrapped his hands over Mafalda's. Pinning her hands on his organ, he pumped hard and fast.

In his mind, he had ordered the Muggle to struggle and fight against him. She was screaming and begging him to stop. Her hands pushed and beat his chest as she wailed.

It was close. His load was ready to spring forth from his loins. He intensified his pumping until his and Mafalda's hands were close to blurs.

Then, a mere moment before his release claimed him, the image of the blonde Muggle changed. Her dusty-blonde hair darkened and curled and her features changed. The exact second before he came, Ron's mind had subconsciously changed the scene. He was no longer shagging a Muggle in a park, but his mind was replaying the night he claimed Granger. She was screaming under him as he took her in her parents' house.

With a sound that was something between a growl and a shout, Ron came. His seed shot out in long, thick streams that painted the toilet. He continued to squeeze and pump as another load launched from his testicles.

"Oh, my!" giggled Mafalda.

Panting and with sweat dripping from his nose, Ron released his grip. He leaned forward, placing his hand on the wall to support him.

"That was a big one," Mafalda said, still chuckling.

"Thanks," Ron breathed out.

She smiled, stood and kissed him on the cheek. "Anything for my Ronnie."

"Let's go to bed," he said. His feet dragged along the floor due to exhaustion as he walked out of the bathroom.

"You go ahead," she said, "I'll join you once I clean your mess off the toilet."

**x**

**x**

For several hours after the rude M. L. E. officer alluded to their daughter's alleged indiscretions, Robinson and Donita Greengrass scoffed at the mere notion their daughter was a lesbian. They were Daphne's parents, who knew her better than they? If she was going through a phase and had lesbian tendencies, they would be the first to know. The very implication their daughter was acting improperly was a ludicrous and baseless accusation, clearly meant to slander the Greengrass' good name.

But then, slowly, doubt crept into their minds. Perhaps they did not know their daughter as well as they believed. They contacted Hannibal Cobblepot, the fine young wizard they introduced Daphne to a short while ago. Since he went on a date with Daphne, he could put Donita and Robinson's minds to ease. Hannibal informed them not only had their daughter yet contacted him to set up a date as she said she would, but she had not shown up for work in several days.

"I don't know why she hasn't shown up to work. Perhaps it has something to do with why she hasn't talked to you about a date, Hannibal," Donita had speculated during their fire-call. "She said she would go on a date with you and she's not one to go back on her word."

"To be honest, I'm not really surprised she hasn't called me, Mrs. Greengrass," said Hannibal, "especially given the situation with Daphne."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked.

Hannibal became nervous. "Well, I don't think it's my place to say anything."

"Hannibal," Donita nearly snapped at the young wizard. "What do you mean by _'Daphne's situation'_?"

"I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this, ma'am, but I've seen your daughter with… _someone_," he said hesitantly.

"With whom?" Donita's tone warned Hannibal that she would not stand for any hesitation or sugarcoating.

"A… _witch_," he gulped nervously. "I've seen then about the Ministry… they're… very close."

Donita said goodbye politely to Hannibal, ended the fire-cal, and then rushed over to her desk and wrote a post to Daphne. This had to be sorted out. She needed to know if these rumors about her daughter were true.

After sending the post, both Donita and Robinson waited for Daphne to come home. They knew it could take a few hours for the owl to reach their daughter. But with each passing minute, their apprehension grew and grew. Robinson took to sitting as still as a statue in a chair while Donita paced back and forth.

Then they finally heard the crack of Apparition from out in the garden. Donita shot to the front door and Robinson was a step behind.

Before Daphne could take a step out of the Apparition point, her parents burst out of the house and stormed up to her. Daphne was taken back by the sad expression on her father's face and the look of rage on her mother's. She asked; "What's wrong?"

While Donita waited for Daphne to arrive, she had planned on how to broach the sensitive subject with her daughter. Originally, she intended to be polite and civil about the matter. But the witch's anger and shame had welled up inside her and it erupted. "Are you sleeping with a witch?"

"Mum?" asked Daphne in shock. She had never seen her mother so angry before and it frightened her.

"Don't _'Mum'_ me! Are you a lesbian?" spat Donita. Her face was burning red with rage as she demanded "Are you fucking another woman?"

Daphne stood rooted to the spot. She wanted to deny it, to say she wasn't a lesbian. It was painfully obvious her parents were not ready to hear the truth. However, her heart betrayed her. Instead of telling her mother a lie, the black-haired witch responded; "Yes."

Donita gasped. When Daphne was born and she held her beautiful baby girl in her arms for the first time, Donita imagined, among a thousand other wonderful things, what it would be like when Daphne grew up and found a good wizard. The new mother saw Robinson walk their daughter down the aisle, shake the young wizard's hand, lift Daphne's veil to kiss her and give her away. And over the years, as Daphne grew, that image of her daughter becoming a married woman grew on its own. And Donita imagined what it would be like when Daphne started a family of her own. The mother fantasized how joyously happy she would be when her daughter told her she was pregnant.

In that moment when Daphne uttered the word _yes_, Donita's dream had been shattered. No longer could Robinson walk her down the aisle. Nor would Daphne bare her grandchildren.

Shame and anger filled Donita's mind. Not only was she upset about her dreams concerning Daphne, Donita was outraged her daughter had so wantonly turned her back on convention. Donita and Robinson were not pure-blood supremacist. In fact Donita and her husband knew Hannibal was a half-blood. But the couple held the belief it was their duty to continue their race and Daphne had abandoned that with her decision. Donita also felt shame that she had learned her daughter's secret from strangers and not Daphne herself. Had Daphne thought so poorly of her mother that she could not share such important information with her? This shame and anger combined with the grief she felt. And Donita lashed out. Her hand flew and slapped her daughter across the face.

As Daphne recoiled from the blow, hot tears fell down Donita's cheeks. The older witch covered her face, turned, and ran into the house, sobbing hysterically.

As her face stung from her mother's slap, Daphne turned to her father. The wizard had not said a word. He stood there with a sad and hurt expression.

Desperate for something other than her mother's anger, Daphne asked "Daddy?"

The wizard looked into her blue eyes. With a soft, almost inaudible voice, he asked "Is this my fault? Did I do something wrong that made you turn out this way?"

In a way, his words and sorrow was more hurtful than her mother's slap. Her lip quivered and she began to cry. "No, Daddy. No."

Robinson hung his head low. He turned and slowly walked to the front door.

She knew she couldn't follow them back into the house. Her parents were infuriated and would likely say even more hurtful things to her if she were to press the issue. Daphne looked at the home where she grew up and wondered if there would ever be a time when she would be welcomed there again. The black-haired witch choked out a painful sob and Apparated back to the hut.

**x**

**x**

After she had composed herself, Tonks rushed back to the cottage she shared with Remus.

"Contact Kingsley and have him call an emergency meeting," she said.

"Is everything okay?" he asked.

Sighing as if a great weight had been lifted, she replied; "It is now."

Fifteen minutes later, Tonks and her lover Apparated to the Burrow. The Order of the Phoenix had yet to find a more suitable location to hold their meetings.

"What's going on?" asked Ginny as Remus and Tonks rushed into the kitchen. It was odd for the Weasleys to have guests this late in the evening.

"Tonks called an emergency meeting," Arthur informed his daughter.

"What for?" she asked.

"I'll tell everyone once we're all here," the Auror said. The idea of telling her peers what had happened ate at her belly. She wrung her hands anxiously.

"Ginny dear, don't you have to go to work?" asked Molly.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, I've got tonight off," she answered.

"Well, you'll have to head up to your room I'm afraid," Arthur said. "You're not a member of the Order so you can't stay here."

"That's fine," she chirped. "Can I give you a hand and make some drinks for everyone?"

"That's very sweet," Molly said with a smile.

A few minutes later, Kingsley showed up. "Sorry I'm late. There was an accident at the Ministry."

"Was anyone hurt?" asked Remus.

"Yes, unfortunately, Martha Patterson is dead."

Everyone, even Ginny who was passing out drinks to the Order members, gasped in shock. Save for Tonks. The Auror gulped guiltily.

"What happened?" someone asked.

"It seemed that she slipped and fell down a stairwell," informed Kingsley. "There was some water on her shoes and at the top of the flight of stairs."

There was no better time than now, thought Tonks. She had to tell everyone about Martha, Voldemort and her parents. She opened her mouth and her throat became dry.

Ginny held up her glass and announced; "I'm not an Order member and it's not my place but I think it should be done. I know most people, including myself, didn't particularly like Martha, but we should toast to her memory."

"Hear, hear," said Arthur as he too raised his glass. Soon everyone held their glass in the air.

Looking into his glass, Remus asked; "Is it proper to toast someone's memory with pumpkin juice?"

"Unfortunately we don't have any liquor in the house," said Arthur, "so pumpkin juice will have to do."

"To Martha," said Ginny.

"To Martha," echoed all the Order members and they drank the pumpkin juice in the dead witch's memory. Tonks gulped the cold liquid down.

Looking at Tonks, Kinglsey asked "So why did you call this meeting?"

Setting the glass down, Tonks cleared her throat. She could not bear to look anyone in the face and tell them she had been the one to betray and murder Moody. So she stared at the ceiling and a tiny crack that marred the surface.

"I have a confession to make," she began. "It's about the spy in our ranks. Or rather, the _spies_ we have in the Order."

Then the crack she was looking at blurred. So much so that the Auror became dizzy. She heard a number of people groan. Looking around, she saw blurry images of wizards and witches swaying in place as if they too were dizzy and disorientated. She suddenly felt very tired. As her eyes began to close involuntarily, Tonks saw that one person in the group was not swaying in place. This person made a show of holding out their glass, turning it over and dumping a full glass of pumpkin juice on the floor. Just before everything went black for the metamorphmagus, her addled brain wondered why that person did not drink the toast to Martha.

**x**

**x**

Shortly after Daphne left for her parents' home, Hermione conjured a simple map of the grounds of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade. Pointing to the map, the brunette said "We'll need to place the wards all along the border."

"Does it mean we'll have to keep a constant eye on the map to see if someone's wondering about once it's up and working?" asked Harry.

"No, I'll imbue the map so it makes a loud chiming sound wherever someone enters the area," she said. "It will be loud enough that we can hear it anywhere in the hut."

"So when the map chimes and shows us where the person is, Harry'll pop to that location and either scare the hell out of them or kill them depending whether or not they're Death Eaters," summarized Susan as she leaned into Harry for comfort.

"Essentially, yes," said Hermione. "Since Harry doesn't have a wand, you and I will have to do all the work until Daphne comes back, Susan."

The red-head gave Harry a mock stern look. "Bet that you think you're lucky huh? Skiving out on all the work just 'cuz you don't have a wand."

Harry smiled. "I'll just have to make it up to you somehow."

"A foot massage is a good place to start," returned Susan.

"Hey now, I'll the one that came up with the plan," stated Hermione, "doesn't that mean I should get more than Susan."

"A foot _and_ back massage," offered Harry.

"I'm suddenly jealous of your superior intelligence, Hermione," Susan said with a slight chuckle. "If I were as smart as you, I could've gotten a back rub out of it."

Hermione was about to suggest if Harry wasn't too tired after massaging her, he could be convinced to massage Susan when she felt Daphne becoming very distressed. Susan sat up as she too felt Daphne through their magical connection.

"What's wrong?" asked Harry.

"It's Daphne," said Susan.

"Is she in trouble?" Harry stood, ready to Apparate to his black-haired witch's side.

"No… she's very anxious," said Hermione worriedly. She repeated "Very anxious."

Then the two witches felt it: a sudden stinging sensation on Daphne's cheek and a powerful pain in her spirit. A few seconds later, the pain worsened. It felt as if Daphne's heart had broken.

"I'm going to go to her," Hermione said. Her lover's pain ripped through her. Tears welled up in her eyes.

Wiping the tears from her own eyes, Susan said, "Me too."

Harry stood next to Hermione, ready to leave with his witches, when a crack sounded from outside the hut.

Hermione rushed through the door and threw her arms around Daphne and pulled her close. The brunette whispered softly "What happened, baby?"

"They found out," replied Daphne. Her body was rocked with a powerful sob and her knees gave way. She threatened to pull Hermione to the ground with her.

In a flash, Harry moved and grabbed his witches before they tumbled. Holding them in his arms, the wizard half carried, half guided them back into the hut. He led them to the bed and set them down. Susan quickly hopped on the bed and joined the embrace.

Susan and Hermione were lying on either side of Daphne with their arms wrapped around her while they lay on top of Harry. He gently stroked Daphne's long hair.

Even though Harry did not share in his witches' bond, he knew what Daphne was feeling. She was lost, hurt, abandoned. And it was ripping her up.

The four continued to hold onto ach other as the sun set.

**x**

**x**

Brown had been a waste of time. Lavender knew nothing of Granger's whereabouts. Draco and his team returned to the castle, dejected.

"Maybe we'll go after the mudblood's wog dorm mate," suggested Nott.

"No, she was just as dim as Brown," said Draco dejectedly. "She wouldn't know anything useful either."

The blond Death Eater was upset. The anger of his failure and the fear of what the Dark Lord would do to him if he did not find the mudblood throbbed in Draco's head. Draco needed something to take his mind off of his woes. A good Muggle Hunt would do just that. He would be able to drown his troubles in the Muggles' screams. With this thought, Draco's blood quickly began to burn and flow. If he were lucky, Pansy would hold down the Muggle while he claimed the girl.

Draco took Pansy's hand in his, intending to lead her out to the Apparation point outside the castle.

Thinking her lover was fantasizing about the blood-traitor's pain and exposed breasts, Pansy feared Draco wanted to act on the lust created by that night's adventure. Again, Pansy felt a strange contradiction forming in her mind. Part of her wanted to lift Draco's robes tight there in the hallway and take care of his physical needs. The other part felt revolted and betrayed by Draco.

"No, Draco, not tonight," she said, pulling her hand from his grasp.

"What?" he asked in surprise.

Pansy adverted her eyes and said; "I'm very upset that we didn't get any useful information from Brown. It's given me a headache."

"So do I, love," he said compassionately. "I'm positive a Muggle hunt will cure what ails us."

Her stomach lurched painfully. Pansy knew by the dark look in Draco's eyes he wanted to befoul himself with a lowly Muggle. He most likely would want Pansy to participate in the foul deed and sully herself. What was worse; a part of her wanted to lick his dirty organ off after he was satisfied. Bile shot up her throat at the thought of willingly debasing herself for Draco's pleasure.

A war raged inside Pansy. In one aspect, she wanted to jump at the chance to help her lover in any way possible even if that meant actively participating in an assault against a Muggle girl. But she was also enraged at such a notion. So much so, she wanted to rip Draco's mask off and tear at his face with her nails.

With her hands trembling, Pansy uttered "No, no Muggle hunt. My head hurts too much."

Draco placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry. Can I get you anything? I can pop down to the infirmary and fetch some headache potions."

"No, I'll be alright. A good night's rest should fix everything." She lied, knowing this internal struggle she was enduring would only worsen.

"Okay," he said and slid his arm around her shoulders and he began guiding her to their shared room. Pansy was so important to him, Draco could ignore his need for the night.

"No," said Pansy as she removed herself from Draco. "You don't have to stay with me tonight."

He looked at her curiously.

"I know you've got some energy to burn." Pansy's belly twisted as she suggested; "Why don't you go on your Muggle Hunt alone."

Thankful his lover had given him permission and oblivious to her internal struggle, Draco leapt at the chance. "Thank you, love."

Turning, Draco trotted back to the Apparition point.

It took Draco a few minutes to find a proper family of Muggles. It was not a large family; there was only the father, mother, and teenaged daughter. But the girl was the reason Draco chose this family. She was young but very developed for her age. Her dark red locks spilled over her shoulders and reached the top of her large breasts. The thought of mashing her endowments under his hand while she begged and sobbed excited the Death Eater.

Not wanting to be interrupted as he had the last time he went on a solo Muggle hunt, Draco cast several charms around the house including a Silencing Charm to block out the screams the Muggles would be making. The Death Eater also cast a Compulsion Charm around the exterior of the house that would keep any other Muggles from approaching until he was finished.

With a flick of his wand, the front door magically opened. After entering the home he quickly cast a Locking Charm on all the doors and windows thereby preventing any escape for the Muggles.

From his hiding place in the shadows of the foyer, he watched them sitting around the dinner table. They were too wrapped up in their conversation to notice that Draco had entered the house. Excitement filled his heart and blood began to flood his loins. This was a thrill – he had not gone on a solo Muggle hunt in some time. Even though he thoroughly enjoyed having Pansy help him in these adventures, he loved working by himself.

As the Death Eater stood in the shadows of the foyer, the family continued to talk amongst themselves. The young girl was describing how she was going to try out for the school's football team. She was animatedly throwing her hands up to illustrate a point which caused her breasts to sway back and forth. Draco stared at her from the shadows. He was imagining her soft, whimpering sobs as he forced her to remove her blouse as her parents begged him to leave the girl alone.

Stepping out of the shadows, Draco cleared his throat loudly to announce his presence. The Muggles acted just as he expected – the mother and daughter clung to each other while the father stood protectively in front of them. The Muggle man tried his best to look imposing.

"What the hell are you doing here?" the man demanded as his wife and daughter whimpered.

Toying with them, Draco said; "Please don't be nervous. You three are just going to entertain me tonight."

The implication of his threat would normally send a chill through the Muggles, if not cause them to panic. Some had tried to barter or even threatened the Death Eater when he made this exact statement in the past. However, the fashion in which these Muggles reacted surprised Draco.

The young girl looked at the Death Eater from behind her parents and said "I'm afraid I'm a horrible singer and I can't dance to save my life."

"Your mum can harmonize fairly well," offered the father to his daughter.

"Maybe you can read him some of your poems, Steve," the woman said to her husband.

"Alana, you promised not to tell anyone about that," the man said with embarrassment.

Draco was confused. Why weren't the Muggles acting like they normally did? They were not bartering for their lives. Nor were they threatening Draco in some futile fashion. These Muggles were calm, as if they thought of the Death Eater as a friend or acquaintance and not some menacing masked figure that had broken into their home. What's more, they had taken his statement – which was meant to be a threat – literally. They were contemplating entertaining him with a show.

The Death Eater's confusion quickly turned to anger. The family was now babbling with each other. A Cruciatus Curse should stop their chatter. Draco pointed his wand at the man and shouted; _"Crucio!"_

The Muggle fell to the fell, screaming. The other two stopped their chattering, but oddly, they did not react in fear. Instead, the mother asked the screaming man "Are you alright, dear?"

"What's the matter, Dad?" asked the daughter.

Draco cocked an eyebrow as he wondered what was wrong with this family. The mother and daughter simply looked at the screaming man as if it was a common thing. Their husband and father's pain did not affect them as it should have.

Furious, Draco ended the curse and roared at the woman and girl; "Scream, damn it!"

They instantly began to scream at the top of their lungs. Their mouths were opened wide and their faces were bright red as their bellowed out their terrified scream. But they held no fear in their eyes. There was no frantic expression to their faces. No desperation.

"Stop!" yelled Draco. He was furious. He needed them to be afraid of him. Their terror was integral to his fantasy. He felt his arousal waning.

"Stand up!" he barked to the man.

Slowly, the man struggled to stand.

Draco pointed to the wife and ordered "Hit your wife in the belly as hard as you can or I'll—"

Before Draco could even give voice to his threat, the man spun around and slammed his fist into his wife's stomach. The woman doubled over, pitched forward and crashed to the floor.

The man and girl appeared unfazed by his action. Needing some reaction out of them, Draco screamed out a rapid series of commands to the Muggle man.

"Rip the girl's top off! Tear off her bra and grab her tits!'

And the man did just that. The girl stood still with her arms at her sides as her father ripped off her blouse and bra. While the man roughly mashed her naked breasts, the girl looked impassive.

By all rights, the father should not have complied with Draco's orders so willingly. Also, girl should have been screaming and pleading with her father to stop. But she did not react in the slightest. Her expression was a cross between bored and uninterested.

_What kind of Muggles have I selected?_ the Death Eater wondered to himself. They followed his command to the letter, but they did not fear him.

Desperate for the sense of power he craved, Draco stomped up to the girl and growled "Fear me, you filthy bitch!"

Her eyes grew wide and she began to whimper. However, Draco could tell it wasn't real. The girl was just afraid because he told her to be so.

He pointed his wand between her naked breasts and muttered the Killing Curse dispassionately. As he suspected, the mother and father were confused but not frightened as their daughter dropped to the floor dead. The Death Eater gritted his teeth angrily as he pointed his wand at the woman. The husband watched dispassionately as his wife fell to the floor after Draco incanted the Killing Curse for a second time. Utterly disappointed by these muggles' lack of reaction, Draco marched to the home next door. It sickened the Death Eater to discover these muggles reacted the same way the previous family did. They followed every one of his commands to the letter, but none of them feared Draco. And this tore at him.

While Draco cried out in frustration, unable to satisfy his own twisted desires, Pansy lay in her bed in Voldemort's castle weeping as a war waged in her spirit. A part of her wanted to join her lover on his hunt, unaware that it was not successful, while another fraction wanted to hunt down Draco and beat him savagely for his infidelity.

**x**

**x**

Meanwhile, in the Burrow's dinning room, a voice said "Wakey, wakey, Tonks."

_"Mmmph,"_ the metamorphmagus grumbled as she slowly stirred from a deep sleep.

"You have some guests that want to speak to you," the voice added.

"What's going on?" asked Tonks as she struggled to sit up. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, she looked to her left and saw her lover passed out, laying on the table. Next to Remus was Arthur Weasley, sprawled out on the floor.

"Are you up yet?" the voice asked.

Tonks turned and saw Ginny standing in front of her, smiling impishly. "What happened?" asked Tonks.

"Everybody is asleep," the red-head answered.

"Why?"

"Because I'm pretty sure someone drugged the pumpkin juice." Ginny was still smiling.

With her mind still unable to clear the cobwebs of her slumber and not thinking clearly, Tonks was about to ask the youngest Weasley what she had meant when the Auror realized someone was standing behind her. Suddenly a hand reached out from behind Tonks and dropped something wet and heavy in to her lap. Instinctively, Tonks looked down. She saw the mangled face of her father resting in her lap looking back at her with his one remaining eye wide in terror. She screamed. In a panic, her legs began to spasm and tremble uncontrollably, knocking her father's severed head to the ground. The decapitated head rolled unevenly on the floor until it hit Ginny's feet and came to a stop.

**To be continued…**

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or follow the link on my bio page


	15. Chapter 15

_**Not Go Gentle**_

by cloneserpents

Part Fifteen

**Standard Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters are property of J K Rowling, Warner Brothers, Bloomsbury Books, Arthur A. Levine Books, Raincoast Books, Scholastic publishing (et al.) and are used without permission. This work was written purely for noncommercial entertainment; no money is being made.

Title comes from a Dylan Thomas poem: "Do not go gentle into that good night"

**WARNING**: this work contains depictions of sex (heterosexual, lesbian, bi-sexual, and group acts with both consensual and non-consensual sex scenes), graphic violence (including but not limited to torture, murder, mutilation, rape, and more). These actions will happen _**TO**_ and be performed _**BY**_ major canon characters (both protagonists and antagonists). This is a horror story so readers should expect evil activity from canon characters.

**Summary:** War wages on and Voldemort proves why he is the most feared wizard. Harry struggles against Voldemort's tyranny even with something horrible lurking inside him. Post-HBP. Pairings HP/HG/SB/DG DARK HARRY.

* * *

While the terrified Auror's screams still echoed off the walls of the Burrow, the person who had just dropped her father's head into her lap grabbed a fistful of Tonks' hair and yanked her head back hard. Her aunt, Bellatrix, snarled down at her. "Filthy little half-blood thought she could go behind our Master's back and get away with it, did she?"

"Oh God," moaned Tonks.

Bellatrix then forced Tonks to look down at the floor where the severed and mutilated head lay. "We had to teach you a lesson; so we cut off your mudblood father's head off."

Tonks screamed again. Her father's face was twisted and contorted in agony; his last moments of life were frozen on his face.

Bellatrix released Tonks' head. The evil witch sauntered to stand next to Ginny. A wicked smile formed on Bellatrix's thin lips. She squatted and reached down, running her fingers through the head's hair. She lifted the thing up, walked back to Tonks, and held it in front of the metamorphmagus' face. Tonks tried to close her eyes, but she could not. She sat there looking in horror at her father's severed head.

An amused giggle escaped Bellatrix's throat. While holding the head still, the Death Eater leaned down until her face was parallel to the decapitated head and opened her lips. Her tongue shot out and she dragged it up the dead face, licking it from the chin, over the cheek, and up the temple.

Bellatrix frowned in disgust. "Yuck! Tastes like a mudblood." She tossed the head over her back like it was trash. It landed with a sickening thump several feet away.

Ginny laughed. It was a light, musical laugh that filled the room.

Tonks looked at Ginny in surprise and shock. "Martha wasn't the spy?"

"Did you honestly think that bitch Patterson was the spy?" asked Ginny. She threw her head back and let out a long laugh. "Did you push her down the stairs hoping to make it look like an accident and free yourself from our Master?"

"How could you?" wailed Tonks. "How could you betray us?"

"Our dear Ginny saw the truth," said Bellatrix.

Tonks snapped her attention back to Bellatrix. "I'll kill you! I'll _fucking_ kill you!"

"No you won't," a high, cold voice sounded.

Once again, the fear that voice created caused Tonks to lose control of her bladder.

Bellatrix bowed in reverence. "Master, I didn't know you were coming."

"When one of my Death Eaters decides to betray me, I am forced to take matters into my own hands," the Dark Lord said as he casually strolled into the kitchen. He looked at the unconscious Order members, saying, "If this had happened a year ago, when Dumbledore was alive and his precious Order was an actual threat, I would've killed everyone here. But now that the old Muggle lover is dead and gone, they are less than a threat – they're like playthings to me. I enjoy watching them struggle and twist in the wind."

The snake-like wizard walked to Ginny. The red-head fell to her knees and kissed the hem of his robes in pure worship.

"Rise, Ginerva," he said.

The red-head was trembling when she stood.

"Look me in the eye, Ginerva," the Dark Lord pressed gently.

"I don't deserve such an honor," said Ginny meekly, still averting her gaze.

Voldemort cradled Ginny's face in his hands and tenderly lifted her chin until she looked into his eyes.

Tonks was shocked to see Ginny's eyes sparkling with adoration and devotion.

"You of all people, Ginerva, have earned the right to look me in the eye," said Voldemort.

Tears spilled down Ginny's face. Her lip quivered and her arms twitched as if she desperately wanted to embrace the evil wizard but denied herself.

"It's good to meet you again," he said and his serpentine lips curled into a smile.

Joyful tears continued to cascade down Ginny's cheeks as she choked out, "Thank you, Master."

"No; thank you, Ginerva," Voldemort said. His hand left her chin and he glided the backs of his fingers over her tearstained cheeks. "You have proven to be my most valuable spy."

"I wish to do more for you, my _lo_—my Master," said Ginny, fumbling over the words.

"Soon, my dear, soon," he said. Voldemort turned and faced Tonks. "But for now, we must deal with my less faithful spy."

Tonks lowered her head and wept.

"Did you doubt my word, Nymphadora?" he asked. "You must have, for you eliminated the innocent witch that you thought was my spy, and tried to get the Order to rescue your parents." His words were like a knife twisting in her belly.

The fiend walked up behind Tonks and placed his hands on her shoulders. Tonks tired to shrink away from his touch but she could not move.

"You forced your Aunt to murder your father. It was your foolish action that led to your father's death. It is solely your fault he's dead."

She sobbed.

"Have you learned your lesion, Nymphadora? Will you ever try to betray me again?" he asked almost sweetly.

"No," Tonks choked out.

"Than say it," he ordered.

"I won't betray you."

"Tell me that you are my faithful servant."

"I am-" she gulped down another sob. "I'm your faithful servant."

"I wish I could believe you, Nymphadora, but you've betrayed me once," he said. "And with your father gone, I have lost half of my insurance over you. Perhaps I'll just replace the mudblood with someone else."

Voldemort's hands left Tonks' shoulders. She heard his hand slip into his pocket and she knew he was drawing out his wand.

_"Levicorpus."_

Suddenly, Remus' body lifted into the air. Tonks screeched _"No!"_

The metamorphmagus fell from her chair and grabbed onto Remus' feet. Desperately, she clung onto her lover as his unconscious body floated further into the air.

"Come now, Nymphadora, you knew this had to happen," said Voldemort.

Remus' body pulled from Tonks' fingers. She collapsed to the floor in a heap.

"You know the rules; if you obey me and are faithful, your werewolf lover will not be harmed." Voldemort's red eyes sparkled. "Well, not _permanently_ harmed_."_

Voldemort walked to the door with Remus floating behind him. Pointing to the remaining Order members, The Dark Lord said to Bellatrix, "Adjust these fools' memories. Make them believe Nymphadora and the werewolf had gotten word that a pack of werewolves in Spain were sympathetic to the Order's cause. Lupin went to Spain in hopes of enlisting them. He'll be out of touch for some time."

"Yes, Master."

Once the Dark Lord had left, Bellatrix began to work. She went to each Order member in turn, incanting _"Obliviate."_

As Bellatrix worked, Ginny moved to Tonks' father's discarded head and transfigured into a piece of parchment before throwing it into the fire.

Bellatrix turned to Ginny and said, "Good job."

"Thank you." The red-head's face was glowing with pride.

Once Bellatrix had left, Tonks made her move. She jumped up, whipped out her wand and lunged for the witch that betrayed her. Ginny pivoted on the ball of right foot and kicked out with her left. Her heel slammed into Tonks' groin. The Auror tumbled to the floor in pain.

"Wow, you really are dense aren't you," said Ginny.

"I'll fucking kill you, you cunt!" snarled Tonks through both the physical pain and emotional agony that ate at her.

Ginny leaned down and whispered softly into Tonks ear; "And just what do you think will happen to your blood-traitor mother and your lupine lover if anything were to happen to me?"

Tonks bit her tongue and glared threateningly at Ginny.

"Maybe they'll cut the subhuman creature's cock off and make you suck it like lolly," the red-head laughed.

"Why?" demanded Tonk. "Why'd you join his side? They cut your bother's arm off!"

"My _family_," she said the word as if it was a foul thing, "is nothing more than worthless blood-traitors! They deserve that and more! And I intend to be the one that punishes them for their traitorous actions."

"What?" The Auror was shocked by the anger in Ginny's voice.

"Let's just say I have a little surprise for this family and this hovel they call a house the day my Master finally decides to let me join him at his side," the red-head said with malice and rage dancing in her eyes. "You could say they'll be _blown_ away."

Tonks struggled to her feet. She wanted to hex Ginny at the very least. But the little bitch was right: if anything happened to her, Tonks' mother and Remus would pay dearly.

"When did you join him?" asked Tonks.

Ginny smiled. "It started a long time ago. I was nothing more than a naive little girl when I met him. He showed me the truth about the world."

She placed her hands over her heart and admitted "That's when I fell in love with him."

"What?" balked Tonks.

Ginny smiled serenely. "I was just a little girl, but he opened my heart and mind. We would speak for hours and hours. I was so much in love with him that I nearly gave up my life so that he could be born again.

"There I was, an eleven year old girl, and not only did I love him completely, I knew his cause was more important than my life. I was ready and willing to sacrifice myself so that he could live."

The red-head's features twisted into anger. "Then that half-blood pillock stumbled in, thinking he was saving me, and killed the man I loved."

It looked as if Ginny was about to spit. "I was so lost and afraid. So alone now that Potter had killed him. I wanted to end my own life; if Tom wasn't in my world then I didn't want to be in it either. But I was too weak, I couldn't kill myself.

"Worst yet, I had to pretend. I told my family that Tom had possessed me and made me do those things. I was weak and I hated myself for it. I was a pathetic coward. I lived the next two years in a stupor… just a waking dream. Everyone thought I was meek. I wasn't meek – I was _worthless."_

Her face brightened. "Then, when Potter returned from the Third Task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and told everyone the Dark Lord had returned, I nearly broke down. Fate had given me a second chance and I jumped at it.

"The first moment I got, I contacted him. I told him how I knew him and what he meant to me. I was ready to run to his side and join his ranks if he just said the word. He contacted me; told me that I would be more useful keeping an eye on Potter and to get close to him.

"So I did. I spoke around him and smiled at him. I even joined him on his little adventure to the Department of Mysteries. Everyone thought that I had shed my insecurities and moved on with my life. It was an act. I had to get close to Potter. I had to prove my worth.

"When Dumbledore began training Potter the next year, I was ordered to get even closer to the boy. That was painfully simple. All I had to do was flaunt myself – toss my hair, kiss another boy in front of him. Like all boys, he was simple. I just played on his teenage hormones and he was putty in my hands.

"It wasn't as easy as I first thought, though. In order to gain his trust, I had to become somewhat intimate with him. I almost threw up in his mouth every time I kissed him. But I had a task to do. If need be, I would've spread my legs for the half-blood. Thankfully I didn't have to resort to that and have been able to save myself for the one I truly love.

"When Harry disappeared and was listed as dead, I still served the man I loved. I got some mundane job at the Ministry in hopes of gaining some useful information. It didn't; I wasn't privy to any worthwhile information as an emergency fire-call operator. However, my dear old mum and dad more than made up for my failure. Those two gibbering imbeciles blathered on and on about the Order and Ministry. They would make idle chatter at the dinner table and I would take it all in."

Ginny placed her fists on her hips and smiled at Tonks. "He asked me to keep an eye on you, too. Tonight, when you called the emergency meeting, I had to intervene. I spiked the juice and then contacted my Master."

The red head sighed in relief. "You know, that actually felt good. It was very cathartic to finally open up to someone. Thank you, Tonks."

"You're a sick bitch," snarled Tonks.

"Me? I'm the sick one?" Ginny let out a bark-like laugh. "You're a filthy half-breed who let a werewolf – who is a_ diseased _man – fuck you. You do realize that every time he stuck his cock in you it was bestiality, right?"

"Don't you dare speak about Remus! You don't deserve to utter his name!"

"I can do whatever I want!" Ginny jabbed her finger in Tonks' chest. "And there's nothing – _nothing_ – you can do about it!"

Tonks sorely wanted to grab the offending finger and snap it like a twig. But Ginny was right; there was nothing she could do about it.

One of the Order members lying on the ground began to moan.

"Looks like everyone's starting to wake up," said Ginny lightly. "Remember, play the part otherwise you'll arouse suspicion and we can't have that."

"You cunt," Tonks cursed. "I'll get you for this."

"No, no you won't," Ginny dismissed the threat. She added mockingly; "I know you've grown used to Remus and you'll be lonely now that he's indisposed. If it makes you feel any better, there's a stray dog wandering about – perhaps you can let him mount you and just imaging it's Remus shagging you." The red-head then howled like a dog and thrust her hips back and forth crudely.

Tonks suppressed the urge to hex Ginny into a bloody pulp as the witches and wizards around her began to stand.

Noticing the tears that stained Tonks' face, Molly waddled up to the Auror and hugged her. "Don't worry, dear. Remus will be safe. And once he's done with the werewolves in Spain, he'll come home."

Tonks never took her eyes off of Ginny. As other Order members joined Molly in consoling Tonks, the metamorphmagus stared daggers at Ginny. The red-head just smiled back at her, clearly unimpressed with Tonks' threats and winked at her mockingly.

**x**

**x**

The next morning, just as the sun climbed over the horizon, Harry and his witches stirred from their sleep. Hermione kissed Daphne and asked; "Are you all right?'

"I'm better," the black-haired witch said sadly.

Following Hermione's lead, Susan leaned forward and kissed Daphne. The red-head offered; "How about we just stay in bed today, huh?"

"No, we really need to set up the Detection Wards and lay a trap for Voldemort," said Daphne. "Besides, if I'm busy it'll help keep my mind off of my parents."

Susan added with a devilish smile "Well, there are ways to keep busy in _bed_."

"Thanks for the offer, but we should really get this trap started."

"Are you sure?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," Daphne answered. There was still sadness in her voice.

After bathing and dressing, Hermione decided she would stay in the hut to begin imbuing the various charms into the map while Susan and Daphne cast the necessary wards around Hogwarts and Hogsmeade.

"Harry doesn't have a wand so he's the proverbial fifth wheel," the red-head said to Daphne in a stage whisper. "He's going to make up for not helping us by giving us all full body massages."

But the wizard had not heard this playful jibe. Instead he was reaching out with his senses beyond the confines of the hut. Straining his ears and sniffing the air, Harry quickly scanned the Forbidden Forest trying to pick up any sound or smell that would tell him the location of the deadly Acromantulas.

"Either Harry's confused regarding the notion of full body massages – _which we all know isn't the case because he's damn good at it_ – or he's distracted by something else," commented Susan. "Perhaps his mind is preoccupied with discovering glorious new ways to reward his girls' hard work. Might I suggest full body massages _and chocolates?"_

"Actually, I was trying to find out where the Acromantulas are. Even though I doubt they'll attack, some might be sorely tested if two tasty morsels such as yourselves," he said, indicating Daphne and Susan, "go walking around in the open. I'm not willing to take any chances."

The fear of any Acromantula attacking them did not faze the witches. Hermione, Daphne and Susan nodded their heads, knowing if one of the beasts even wandered within a hundred feet of any of them Harry's heightened senses would pick up the monster's movement. They knew he would instantly change into his demon form and rip the Acromantula to shreds.

"I suppose saving us from being eaten alive is better than full body massages and chocolates," commented Susan in her typical fashion.

"I don't know," said Daphne with a show of deep thought. "Harry's massages are awfully nice and if you throw chocolates into the mix..."

"Hey, I'm the one who makes with the funny!" Susan playfully shot at the black haired witch. "You'd better watch your arse, skinny! You're encroaching on my territory!"

Chucking over his lovers' fake argument, Harry returned to scanning the forest. After a moment he found them. He could hear and smell the monsters a good distance from the edge of the forest. There were a few spiders roaming around by themselves, but most of them were divided up into groups. Harry was able to discern that some of these groups were involved in battles with one another a little over a mile into the forest. Apparently, the monsters were still fighting to see who would lead them.

Harry reeled in his senses and announced "They're far enough away that if they do decide to attack, I'll hear them coming long before they become a threat."

"So if one of the nasty things tries to gobble us up, you'll swoop in save the day?" asked Susan with a grin.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Well, we'd better get started," Hermione said; "See you in a few hours." She then began waving her wand and conjured a large map that covered one of the hut's walls.

Harry led Daphne and Susan out of the hut. He said "I'll keep both of you in sight, just in case."

"Let's leap-frog in the placements of the wards," suggested Daphne. "I'll erect the first one and you set up the next one a few yards down. Then we'll move and I'll set up the third ward and you take care of the fourth one and so on."

"Oh this is going to be such a fun filled day! Nothing's better than loads of marching and conjuring wards," exclaimed Susan sarcastically.

After the three moved away from the hut, Hermione busied herself imbuing the map with the necessary charms and spells. The one charm that would sound a chime when someone appeared on the map was elementary, but it took a long series of simple wand movements to cast. As the brunette performed the overly easy wand movements, her mind drifted to Daphne and her parents. Hermione theorized that part of the problem lay with the magical society as a whole. The culture of wizarding Britain was similar to the Victorian Era society, even though women were held in higher regard. Since the Victorian culture was very prime and prudish, any form of sexuality that was different from the accepted norm – such as homosexuality – was shunned, if not criminalized.

Added to this closed minded attitude, wizarding Britain was virtually obsessed with procreating the wizarding race. She recalled her first welcoming feast when she began attending Hogwarts. Everyone introduced themselves based on their blood status. It was clear that continuing the race was vitally important to wizards and witches since it was instilled in nearly every level of their society. And since lesbian lovers could not reproduce, the society doubly shunned them.

Hermione considered the situation further; it wasn't just the society and its beliefs that caused Daphne's parents to lash out. It was simpler than that. From her own experience, Hermione knew mothers and fathers have plans and dreams for their children. From a very young age, Hermione's own parent helped instill the desire in the witch to marry a handsome man and start a family. It was the desire of every parent to see their child start a family of their own. Taking this into consideration, Hermione realized that Daphne's parents must have been shocked by the revelation their daughter was involved in a lesbian relationship. It was by no means an excuse, but it was a reason.

This led to Hermione wondering what her own parent would do if they ever found out about her and Daphne. Even though her mother and father were very open minded, Hermione doubted they would instantly accept the relationship. More likely than not, they would be hurt and shocked at the notion their daughter was involved in a lesbian affair. The brunette snorted when she imagine what her parents' reaction would be if they learned Hermione was not only was a lesbian but in fact an active participant in a bisexual four-some.

Hermione completed the wand movements and successfully finished the first spell. Now that the simple task of imbuing the first spell into the map was done, Hermione moved on to the more complex charms – ones where she needed to focus intently on the incantations and wand movements. The brunette welcomed the distraction for if she had to concentrate on the spells her mind would not dwell on whether or not her parents would react in the same manner Daphne's mother and father had.

**x**

**x**

Daphne chose to erect the first ward just outside the hut. Her wand moved and twirled as she muttered the necessary incantation. The relatively simple process took less than thirty seconds.

As the black haired witch worked on the ward, Susan marched approximately thirty yards to the north of the hut and began to cast the second ward. Just as she started to finish, Daphne passed the red head on her way to the location for the third ward.

Harry stood behind his witches, pacing between them. All the while the wizard scanned the tree line; watching, listening and even smelling for any sigh of Acromantulas. He was ready to pounce the instant a threat appeared.

**x**

**x**

An odd article appeared on the second page of the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_. Many who read the story brushed it off as nonsense – just some wizard desperately seeking attention. Only a handful of people took it for what it truly was. The article read:

_Wizard allegedly escapes crazed Muggles without the use of magic!_

_By Warren Brounne_

_Mr. Jonathan Appleton, aged thirty-one, claims he recently escaped from the Muggle military unit kidnapping magical folk._

_"See, look!" Mr. Appleton told this reported and showed me his cleanly shorn head and the fine, straight scar that bisected his bald crown. "That's where they cut into my brain!"_

_When asked why the Muggles cut open his head, Mr. Appleton responded "'Cuz they said they wanted to see if magical folk's brains are different from Muggles."_

_Mr. Appleton claims he was the subject of many strange Muggle experiments where they not only cut open his skull, but poked and prodded him with needles, drained large quantities of blood on a regular basis, and asked strange questions regarding what blotches of ink on pieces of parchment looked like to him._

_Mrs. Joan Sperhafocus from the Muggle Relations Department in the Ministry knows of Mr. Appleton._

_"He's a prankster," Mrs. Sperhafocus told this reporter. "I can't tell you how many times this department was called to his neighborhood to adjust the memories of the Muggles he played a practical joke on."_

_When confronted, Mr. Appleton admitted his transgressions against his Muggle neighbors but defended his current claim. "Those jokes were nothing. I was just having a spot of fun with the Muggles and I never hurt a soul. These Muggles that nabbed me are serious! They've got these things, these weapons that make you seize up!"_

_Mr. Appleton goes on to state that he was held prisoner for several weeks when something strange happened._

_"One of the blokes in a white coat came in to take my blood like they did everyday. I told him to stop, like I did every day. The weird thing is that day he listened to me and he did stop. After asking and asking him not to poke me with a needle for weeks on end, he finally does._

_"Then I get the idea if he said yes to one thing, then he might say yes to another. So I ask him if I could leave. And he _(expletive deleted)_ did! He held the door open for me!_

_"One of the guards sees me walking out of my cell and he points on of those guns I was telling you about at me. I've been hit by that gun more times than I can to think about and it hurts like a _(expletive deleted)_. So I tell him why doesn't he see how it feels to get shot by that thing. The bloke turns the weapon on himself and shoots himself right in the belly!_

_"Once that happened, I ran as fast as I could. About four guards tried to stop me, but like with that other guard I told them to shoot themselves which they did!"_

_"The Muggles listened and obeyed your every word?" this reporter asked._

_"Yeah! I even got lost in the corridors and I stopped some bird in a white coat how to get out. Not only did she tell me which way to go, she led me out of the building! She _(expletive deleted)_ held my hand and walked to the lift and out the door!"_

_When asked if he used the Unforgivable Imperius Curse on any of the Muggles, Mr. Appleton vehemently denied such actions. "Even if I had my wand, which I didn't 'cuz the Muggles took it away from me, I couldn't do the Imperius. Ask anyone who knows me; I'm utter crap at complicated spells. I got kicked out of Hogwarts because I failed my O.W.L.s!"_

_This reporter asked Mrs. Sperhafocus her opinion of Mr. Appleton and his claims. "I wouldn't trust him. He's a prankster through and through. I wouldn't doubt it if he made this whole story up just to get a laugh."_

**x**

**x**

"We're making good time," Harry commented. Susan and Daphne had been erecting the wards for close to five hours. In that time, they had nearly finished encircling the grounds of Hogwarts with the Detection Wards. "If we keep this up, we'll be done before supper."

"What's this _'we'_ stuff, mister?" Susan called out playfully. "Daphne and I are the ones doing all the work."

He chuckled. "How about I make some lunch for you when we're finished with the school grounds?"

"I don't know," said Susan in a show of deep thought. "All this stomping around is making my feet sore. Perhaps you can rub my feet while I eat my lunch."

"Why are you obsessed with massages, Suze?" Daphne countered. She turned to Harry and stated "Lunch would be wonderful, Harry. You won't have to massage anyone while we eat."

"Thank you, love," Harry said to the black haired witch.

An hour later, Harry, Susan and Daphne returned to the hut. They found Hermione still standing in front of the map, twirling her wand about and muttering a long string of incantations.

"How much longer do you have to go with the map?" asked Daphne.

"I'm almost done. Just a few minutes more," the brunette replied.

Harry made his way to the kitchen and began to collect some bread, cheeses and meats.

"Harry's going to make us lunch," Susan told Hermione.

"It's nothing big," he interjected.

Harry looked to Daphne and asked "Can you give me a hand? As Susan likes to point out every chance she gets, I don't have a wand and I need the bread toasted."

"Sure thing," she said.

While the petite witch cast the simple charm to toast the bread, Harry scratched the side of his nose nervously and said; "Daphne, I know you've got Susan and Hermione, and that they're probably better listeners than me, but if you need anyone to talk to about your parents or anything else I'll be right here for you."

Daphne smiled sweetly at Harry while Susan commented; "Wow, a bloke who makes sandwiches and offers a shoulder to cry on. If you add a honking big willy, you've got yourself the near-perfect wizard." Her hazel eyes widened in mock surprise as she uttered, "Wait a tic... you _do_ have a honking big willy!"

"All joking aside, I'm serious, you know," Harry said. "I don't want to pressure you, but if you need me, I'll be there for you."

Daphne sighed. "It hurts. I mean, I can't blame them. It must have been a terrible shock to learn my secret from somebody besides me."

"Do you think it would've been better if you were the one who told them?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Hard to say. The fact that I wasn't the one who told them probably got them steamed up. But they're old fashioned. There's a chance they would have reacted the same way regardless of who told them."

"Who'd you think told them?" asked Harry.

"I wouldn't doubt it was someone from the Ministry," said Hermione, looking up from the map. "We didn't flaunt our relationship, but we didn't exactly hide it either," she said recalling both Ginny and Martha walking in on an intimate moment in Flourish and Blots.

"It doesn't matter who told my parents. They know. What's bothering me now is whether they will ever accept me," she continued. "As I said, they're old fashioned. They expected me to get married and push out a few grandkids for them and the wizarding race."

"And when they heard about your relationship with Hermione, they believed that would never happen?" he asked.

"Pretty much," she replied. "I guess they reckoned I smashed all their hopes and dreams."

Hermione fidgeted nervously as she wondered once again how her parents would react to such a revelation.

"Still, that doesn't excuse hurting you," Harry said.

"No, but I can understand. They were upset and they just lashed out."

Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "Well, hopefully they'll come to their senses."

She smiled. "If they don't, I'll always have you, Hermione, and Susan."

Leaning down, Harry placed a soft kiss on her lips and echoed "Always."

A moment later, Harry grinned and asked; "I have a question; if I'm the _near_-perfect wizard now because of the making sandwiches, offering a shoulder to cry on and a big willy, what do I need to do to become the perfect one?"

"Master cunnilingus," offered Susan.

Smiling, he asked; "I wonder if I know someone who could help me in that aspect."

"You're in luck. I'm a very good teacher." Daphne's blue eyes sparkled. "Just ask Hermione; I taught her very well."

After chuckling over her lovers' interchange, Hermione set her wand down and announced "The map is done."

"Let's have some lunch," suggested Daphne.

As his witches ate, Harry looked out the window and to the ruined castle. He surveyed the utter devastation of the ancient building. A stray thought entered his mind as to the many ghosts who inhabited Hogwarts. Since they were incorporeal, they would not have been harmed by Voldemort's attack. However, Harry doubted they still roamed the ruined halls. He pondered aloud, "I wonder what happened to all the ghosts?"

"They probably moved on to haunt someplace else," said Hermione.

"I'm pretty sure Moaning Myrtle's still in the loo," corrected Susan. "I wouldn't doubt that she's lurking in her U-bend as we speak."

"I pity whoever Peeves decides to pester," added Daphne. "Poor bastards. Peeves would be pelting them with chalk and dustbins day and night."

Thinking of the ghosts and spirits, Harry recalled something. "Didn't Myrtle haunt an old classmate until the Ministry made her stop?"

"What, do you think Myrtle's gone back to haunting that person?" asked Daphne.

"No, but it brings up another point; I also remember Filch saying something about getting Peeves thrown out of the castle," Harry said. "How could you keep a ghost out of a building? They can walk through walls and spells don't affect them."

"Actually, one spell can affect them. It's called _Spiritus Murus_, or, more commonly; the _Specter Deflector_. There's a small department in the Ministry that comes to your house to cast it if a ghost is bothering you," said Susan. "We had to put one around our house because someone my Aunt put away in Azkaban came back to haunt her after he died."

"I've heard of that," said Hermione. "It sets up a shield that blocks any spirit – whether it's a ghost or a poltergeist – from entering a building."

"There are also some cells in Azkaban for particularly bothersome ghosts where the interior of the cells are imbued with the _Specter Deflector_," added Susan. "In that case, the spell prevents the ghost from leaving the cell as opposed to stopping them from entering a building."

Once she was done with her meal, Susan said to Harry "Thanks for the sandwiches."

"You're welcome," he replied.

"Are you hungry, Harry?" asked Hermione. She paused and rolled her eyes. "Look at how wild my life's gotten. I just asked Harry if he wanted an afternoon shag so he can feed off of our sex like it was a simple occurrence for me."

"Who would've thought Hermione Granger was such a wild child," said Susan, jestingly. "You're an insatiable minx, offering you body to a wizard so casually."

"Hermione's a minx, huh? I'm surprised you haven't asked Harry to take you in the arse yet," giggled Daphne.

Harry's eyebrows rose as he looked at the red-head questioningly.

"That's right, Harry, our outspoken Hufflepuff enjoys a good buggering now and then," added Hermione with a snort of laughter.

Susan blushed slightly but held her head high. "Don't mind them, Harry; they don't know what they're missing."

"So do you need to _feed_, Harry?" asked Daphne knowingly. "We can have Suzie bend over the table if you want."

Harry chuckled. "No, I'm fine."

"Maybe next time," offered Susan and slapped her bottom.

"Besides, Harry will get his substance when I give him a few lessons later," said Daphne, smiling like the Cheshire Cat.

"You were serious about teaching him cunnilingus?" asked Hermione.

"Of course I was."

"Sweet! Pussy licking is so much better than a foot rub!" cheered Susan.

Harry flashed his lopsided grin and said "What if we combine the two; I practice my cunnilingus on you while Daphne and Hermione massage your feet."

Susan's eyebrows peaked "By Merlin, I think Harry's hit upon one of the greatest discoveries ever!"

"I can't believe I'm discussing oral and anal sex so nonchalantly," Hermione said while blushing and laughing.

"You're a minx I tell you," Susan playfully chided. "A minx!"

**x**

**x**

When his lunch hour came, Ron left his office and made a beeline to the Muggle park he had visited the day before. As he strolled around the park, he noticed a number of his peers wandering about. Ron wondered if these wizards and witches took their lunches here often or were they at the park for the same reason he was.

His fantasy the night before, when Mafalda had given him a hand-job, sparked a desire in him. A desire he had to quench.

Ignoring his fellow magical folk and the reasons for them being there, Ron began to search. The red-head didn't have time to waste worrying about what his peers were doing. He only had an hour and he planned to use every minute to its fullest. And for that, he needed to find a woman.

Walking pass a group of Muggle women from a nearby office, Ron quickly dismissed them. None of these muggles fit his criteria. He spotted another woman, a blonde, and dismissed her as well. One after another, Ron brushed off almost every woman he saw in the crowded park. Then, after about five minutes, he finally found the right one.

Generally speaking, the woman was not very attractive. She was certainly prettier than his wife, but she was not beautiful by any means. The woman's breasts were large, which appealed to Ron, but her bottom was a bit fat and she had a large, hooked nose. But none of the Muggle woman's appealing or unattractive features mattered to the wizard. The sole reason Ron chose this woman was for her hair. It was brown and wildly curly and it reminded him of Granger's unruly mane.

He approached her. Before he acted, Ron needed to know if the same strange thing that affected the Muggles from the day before affected this woman.

"Pardon, but what's your name?" he asked.

"It's Sarah," she said.

"Could I call you…" the wizard hesitated. He looked over his shoulder to make sure no one was near. If this failed, he didn't want anyone to know. "Can I call you _Hermione_?"

"I wouldn't mind," the woman said with a smile. "It is a pretty name."

Looking around again, he asked the woman; "Could you follow me, Hermione?"

_'Hermione'_ stood and asked "Where are we going?"

"Just to those trees over there." He pointed to the area Blaunkfrount had used the day before.

The woman followed him without hesitation. Ron set up a Compulsion and Silencing Charm around the area – he did not want anyone walking in on him and this proxy-Hermione and ruin his moment.

"I'm going to rape you," he said calmly.

"Oh," the woman said.

"But you'll like it," he said.

"Really? I didn't realize I was that kinky."

"I want you to fight against me while I shag you, okay?"

The woman purred. "A bit of rough sex, huh?"

"You ready?" he asked.

The woman nodded her head. Ron's hand flew, slapping her across the face. The woman flinched and recoiled.

"Beg me to stop, Hermione!" snarled Ron as his hand flew once again.

As the woman begged him to stop, Ron viciously ripped her clothes off. His fingers dug into the tender flesh of her breast and bottom. He told her to cry as he pushed her to the ground. Following his commands, the woman screamed for him to stop when he pushed his organ roughly into her. When he came, Ron's whole body was rocked. He had not felt such a powerful orgasm since he lost his virginity with the real Hermione.

Lying on top of the woman, Ron said "You liked that, didn't you? You're a nasty whore who loved every second, isn't that right, Hermione?"

"Oh God, yes," she said, whipping the tears from her eyes.

Running his fingers through her wild hair, he asked "Do you love me, Hermione? Tell me that you love me."

"Of course I love you," she said with a warm smile.

"Tell me that you can't live without me."

"I'd die if you left me."

Ron pulled out of her and retrieved his wand. After he magically cleaned his bits, he waved his wand over the woman. Her clothes mended right before her eyes.

"Wow, that's a neat trick," she said in awe. The woman then looked into Ron's eyes and asked "Will I see you again?"

Smiling, he answered, "Tomorrow, same time, right here."

**x**

**x**

Meanwhile, in a small château outside Chamonix-Mont-Blanc, France, Johan Blaor smiled. The wizards and witches supplied by Monsieur D'Arras proved to be skilled potion masters. They had already memorized Blaor's complicated potion and were making numerous batches. By his estimation, they would be able to start tainting the water supply in France in two days. And once they were finished with France, the French wizards and witches he had just taught would travel to Belgium, while Blaor and his team would head to Germany. Once there, he would train the Germans so they could go to another country and train even more magical folk about his miraculous potion so they could teach even more just as the French team would be doing in Belgium. The people spreading his potion and tainting the Muggle water supply would grow exponentially.

By conservative estimation, if his students continued to spread the knowledge to other trustworthy wizards and witches, his potion could be spread throughout the entire European continent within two to three months.

**x**

**x**

In her flat, Tonks clutched her knees to her chest and rocked her body back and forth on her bed. Tears rolled down her face.

The witch didn't think she could get much lower than she was at that moment. Not only had her father been murdered, but Voldemort kidnapped Remus right in front of her. However, the issue that plagued and wracked the Auror's mind the most was Martha Patterson. Tonks had killed an innocent person. She had pushed Martha down a flight of stairs and then wrenched her neck until it snapped.

Tonks had acted fool heartedly. Not only had she judged Martha to be a Death Eater spy, the Auror acted as her executioner.

After she killed Moody, Tonks had eased her guilt by saying she was forced to do so. It had not erased the pain and sorrow she felt, but it did give her a modicum of relief and absolution. But with Martha's death, Tonks had to take full blame. No one made her shove Martha down the stairs. No one threatened to kill her loved ones if she didn't snap the witch's neck.

She pulled fistfuls of her own hair as she wailed.

There was no way back now. She had killed an innocent person under her own volition.

She considered suicide. The idea of ending her pain by pointing her wand at her head and muttering the Killing Curse seemed infinitely better than the pain she was suffering.

But Tonks knew if she ended her own life, she would forfeit Remus' and her mother's lives. If she were to die, Voldemort and his Death Eaters, having no use for the two hostages, would kill them.

Tonks flopped over and wept into her pillow. How many more people did she have to kill in order to save the people she loved?

**x**

**x**

After lunch, Hermione joined Susan and Daphne in erecting the Detection Wards around the ruins of Hogsmeade. Just as he had done when Daphne and Susan worked on the school grounds, Harry watched, listened and smelled for any Acromantulas as his witches moved about Hogsmeade. With the three witches working together, they finished the task of placing the wards around the village in a few short hours.

As they made their way back to the hut, Susan chimed "Hey, I just realized, once we lure Voldemort into a trap and kill him, won't his followers come running to avenge their master's death?"

Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Acromantulas or not, the Death Eaters will attack."

Daphne gulped and Hermione looked worried.

"We'll have to leave right after I kill him," said Harry.

"Where would we go?" asked Daphne. "It's not like any of us can pop to Diagon Alley and lease a flat. Hermione's wanted by the Ministry, Susan and I would be brought in and asked about Hermione's whereabouts. And everyone thinks you're dead, Harry."

"I don't think we should worry about the world finding out Harry's alive," said Susan. "Once Voldemort is dead, it won't matter if everyone knows Harry's alive."

Hermione's expression grew concerned. "I know my parents are safe because we've protected them from another threat; the Ministry. But what about Susan and Daphne? Won't the Death Eaters go after your families for revenge?"

"I suppose this is the first time anyone's even said this, but I'm lucky I'm an orphan," replied Susan with a sad smile. "Since Aunt Amelia was murdered, I don't have any family for Voldemort's lackeys to hurt."

Daphne's complexion paled. "I'll have to convince my folks to leave the country like Hermione did with her parents. Which may be a touch complicated seeing they probably won't even want to see me much less talk to me."

"That may not be a problem," said Harry. "You three should stay in the hut if anyone shows up. That way, no one will know that you're connected to me and they'll have no reason to go after your folks.

"And as for where we should go after I destroy Voldemort's body, why don't we go to Hermione's parents," offered Harry. "It's already under the Fidelius Charm, so we'd be safe."

"I could magically expand my bedroom," added Hermione.

"Um, what about Harry's special diet?" asked Susan.

"We'll definitely have to put up a few Silencing Charms around the room," Hermione said with wide eyes. "I don't think Mum and Dad would appreciate _'feeding time'_."

"We can stay there until we find a more suitable hiding place," concluded Harry.

"All right, now that's settled, I'll lay the bait," said Daphne. She waved her wand and conjured a floor-length mirror. The black-haired witch began twirling her wand over her head in an intricate pattern. Her long, black hair grew lighter until it changed to a steel grey color. Her long, silky strands twisted and scrunched until her hair became a mangled mop. "The sooner I start spreading the _'rumor' _that I saw Harry in Hogsmeade, the sooner Voldemort will take the bait."

After she was satisfied her hair was done, Daphne continued to wave her wand about in front of her face. Slowly, her nose grew thicker and longer. A bend formed in the bridge of her nose. Numerous deep wrinkles appeared on her brow, cheeks and neck. Next Daphne waved her wand over her left arm and hand. Dozens of liver spots popped up over her forearm and back of hand. She switched her wand to her left hand and repeated the same wand movement over her right arm and hand, producing the ugly marks.

She smiled, revealing a toothless grin.

"Wow, you're really good at self-transfiguration," uttered Susan.

"Needs, one more thing," said Daphne. She waved her wand over her robes, transforming them into dirty rags. "There, I look like a proper hag. One that would rummage through Hogsmeade in search of valuables to sell," Daphne said proudly.

"Be careful," said Hermione.

"I won't be long," said the now hag-like Daphne. "I'll just pop in a pub or two, have a drink, and blather on how I saw a ghost that turned into a scary demon."

Daphne walked outside and Apparated to Knockturn Alley. She hobbled down a twisting street as if her left knee could not bend properly. She approached a darkly lit pub. It was the type of establishment that promised unruly and disreputable clientele. If rumors of someone seeing Harry alive were to reach any Death Eaters, Daphne reasoned it would be here in this dark place.

The disguised witch hobbled into the pub. The foul stench of body odor, urine and cheap alcohol hung heavily in the air. There were more than two dozen witches and wizards throughout the pub. Each one the typical dredge of society.

Daphne made her way to the bar and in a gravely, cracked voice announce "I need some fire-whiskey!"

"Ten Sickles," grumbled the bartender.

After dropping the coins on the counter-top, the bartender poured Daphne a shot of the amber liquid. Daphne took a deep breath, picked up the shot glass and tossed the burning alcohol down her throat. Slapping the empty glass on the counter, Daphne called "Another one. I've had a rough day!"

After scooping up ten more sickles from the witch, the bartender poured another shot which Daphne quickly gulped down.

Dropping ten more coins on the counter, Daphne said aloud "Keep 'em coming, barkeep. I just saw a ghost."

A haggard wizard sitting on the stool next to Daphne said "Big deal. I see a ghost everyday."

"Me too," another wizard sitting further down the bar echoed. "When my mother-in-law died, I thought I had finally gotten rid of the cantankerous old bitch. But now her bloody ghost follows me all around the house, gripping and complaining."

"That may well be," Daphne said. She paused and gulped down her third shot. "But have you ever seen a ghost turn into a bloody demon?"

"What are you on about, you old hag?" asked the bartender gruffly.

"I was in Hogsmeade," she began.

A number of voices called out in disbelief.

"What?"

"Are you barmy?"

"The acromantuals would've eaten you!"

Daphne turned and said; "They didn't bother with me. I don't got enough meat on my bones to attract them.

"As I was saying, I was in Hogsmeade looking through the rubble for any trinkets or doodads that I could hock for some coin when I saw him!" she said. "The ghost walked out from behind a half collapsed wall. At first, he didn't see me. But then, when he finally noticed me, his face got all twisted like he was mad as hell. Then – _bam_—he turned into a ten foot tall, black skinned, demon. Complete with horns!"

"A ghost can't change his shape," someone argued. "They keep the same shape they were in when they died. Remember Gryffindor House's ghost? His head was barely attached to his shoulder 'cuz that's the way he looked when he died."

"Same with the Bloody Barron," another added. "He was coated with blood when he died and so he's ghost was coated with blood."

"I'd swear on my magic I saw the ghost change into a demon," insisted Daphne.

"Maybe it wasn't a ghost then," offered a witch.

"It had to be a ghost," Daphne replied. "It was Harry Potter."

All heads in the pub turned and faced Daphne.

"You saw Harry Potter's ghost?"

"Harry Potter?"

"His ghost is haunting Hogsmeade?"

"He turned into a demon?"

As the patrons chatted animatedly about what Daphne had just told them, the witch sneaked out of the pub. She walked a half mile away and found another, even seeder pub.

Slapping a handful of coins on the bar, Daphne said "Merlin, I've had a day you wouldn't believe!"

Once she had seeded the rumor at the second pub, Daphne headed back to the hut. She stumbled in, startling Hermione who was putting the finishing touches on the magical map of Hogwarts and Hogsmeade that covered the South wall of the hut.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just a bit tipsy," replied Daphne. She tapped her wand on top of her head and muttered _"Finite."_

Her appearance shimmered for two seconds before she reverted to normal.

"Did it go well?" asked Harry.

"Swimmingly," Daphne said with her face aglow. "I'll head out tomorrow for a repeat performance."

Susan giggled. "Just how many drinks did you have?"

"Three in the first place and four in the second," she said. "No, wait, five in the second."

"You've been gone less than thirty minutes!" exclaimed Hermione.

"And that's precisely why I'm a little tipsy," the black-haired witch slurred slightly. "Let's see how well you hold up when you take eight shots of fire-whiskey in twenty-five minutes."

"Maybe you should lie down," suggested Hermione.

"No, I'm not that bad," she returned. "Besides, I promised Harry that I'd give him a few lessons."

"You can't be serious," chided Hermione.

"Can I sit in on the lessons as well?" asked Susan. "It would only be proper if I were to learn seeing how I'm bisexual now."

"I don't mind at all," Daphne responded. The black-haired witch turned and looked at Hermione, ordering "Get naked."

Harry laughed at the absurdity.

"What?" Hermione was stunned by the blunt command.

"I need a visual aide if I going to teach Harry and Susan anything," explained Daphne. "Now strip and hop on the bed."

"What if someone takes the bait and shows up first thing in the morning?" asked Hermione.

Harry replied, "I don't think that'll happen. I reckon these types of rumors take time to cement."

Hermione eyed Harry suspiciously. "You just want to watch, don't you?"

He raised his hand. "Guilty as charged."

"No, he's right, Hermione," said Daphne. "No one's going to come down here tomorrow to try to catch a glimpse of Harry. I was planning on heading out tomorrow night and play the part again."

"Now stop stalling and strip," ordered Susan.

Hermione's face burned. A moment later, she shrugged her shoulders and said "To hell with it" and began to undress.

"Fantastic," Daphne said, rubbing her hands together excitedly. "First I'll start with the basics and then I'll give a practical example. After that, Harry will have a go while I coach him, then Susan."

"Once Susan's had her turn I have a feeling the lesson will turn into a free-for-all," promised Harry with a smile.

"This is going to be a long night." Hermione laughed with embarrassment as she unclasped her bra.

**x**

**x**

Early the next morning, Herbert Belova hobbled down the corridor to the Minister for Magic's office as fast as his legs could carry him. The wizard was old, even by magical standards. And time had not been kind to the elderly wizard; his eyesight was so poor, he was forced to wear thick spectacles while arthritis had nearly crippled him. His bones creaked and ached painfully with each step. The wizard's body begged Belova to stop, but he had to meet with the Minister.

Rushing past Godfrey's secretary, Belova stormed into the Minister's office. The secretary quickly followed Belova, trying politely to stop the elderly wizard by asking _"Do you have an appointment?"_

"Good day, Herbert," Godfrey greeted the obviously angry wizard with a warm tone. "What brings you here this early?"

Belova threw down yesterday's _Prophet_ directly in front of Godfrey. The paper was folded open to the second page and the article concerning Appleton's escape from the Muggles. He pointed contemptuously at the paper and growled; "This is what's brought me here, sir!"

"I'm sorry, sir," the secretary apologized to the Minister. "He just slipped by me."

"It's quite alright, dear," Godfrey said. "I was expecting this meeting."

"Very well, sir," the witch left the office, closing the door behind her.

Belova snarled; "Why you do it? Why'd you give Blaor the funding to poison the Muggles? The committee that you and I both sat on refused his proposal!"

"I could deny such an accusation," Godfrey said, leaning back in his chair. "But to do so would be an insult to you."

"Damn right it would," snapped Belova. "There was no way in heaven or hell Blaor could've done this without government funding!"

Godfrey gestured to a chair. "Please, Herbert, have a seat."

Grumbling under his breath, Belova sat. His aching joins welcomed the chair.

Godfrey steepled his fingers under his chin. "You cannot deny that the potion has already been beneficial. That very article is proof; one of our citizens has escaped the Muggles."

Belova huffed indignantly. "I take it you haven't heard the rumors then? One M. L. E. officer was suspended for three days because he took sexual advantage of a Muggle. And he was able to do so because of this damned potion! Once the public is made aware of this travesty, who knows what will happen!"

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, the Minister said "That is unfortunate about the M. L. E. officer."

"Unfortunate?" barked Belova. "_Unfortunate?_ I bloody knew something like this would happen when Blaor gave us his proposition! Once magical folk find out about what's happened to the Muggles, they'll be outraged!"

"Are you certain, my old friend?" asked Godfrey. "Was the M. L. E. officer outraged that he could take advantage of a Muggle so easily?"

"Of course he wasn't," snapped Belova. "He practically raped that woman!"

"Was it truly rape, Herbert? Did the woman protest? Did she fight back?"

"No, she couldn't! That damn potion robbed her of her free will!"

"If she had no free will of her own, how could it be rape?"

Belova stared at Godfrey. "Are you saying that the wizard was justified in his abuse of the Muggle because she had no free will of her own? Because her free will had been stripped away?"

Godfrey shrugged his shoulders and brushed the comment aside. "That's a debate left to more enlightened wizards than either of us."

"The hell it is!" Belova pointed a finger at the Minister and shouted "You brought this down on the Muggles. Every crime that's committed against them rests squarely on your shoulders, Festus!"

"Crimes? Crimes?" Godfrey's brow furrowed in anger. "Tell me, Herbert, is it considered murder when you kill a deer to feed your family?"

"Are you comparing Muggles to animals?" Belova was aghast that Godfrey had even mentioned such a thing.

Godfrey slapped his hand on his desk. "By our very nature we are superior to Muggles."

Belova's eyes widened in surprise. He always knew that Godfrey was an elitist but the elderly wizard had no idea how extreme the Minister's views were.

Normally, Godfrey was much better at keeping a cool and level head. But Belova's ignorance and stubbornness prevented him from seeing the truth. "Our life expectancy is significantly longer then theirs. From childhood, we can do wondrous things with a few words and a flick from our wands. We can create water from thin air. Eleven year olds are taught how to turn buttons into beetles. And we can travel from one spot to another just by willing it to happen. Even with the Muggles' precious technology they are still inferior to us in every way!

"You say that magical folk will be outraged when they learn what we've done to the Muggles. I say they will finally open their eyes to the truth," Godfrey continued to rant. "Mr. Blaor's potion has shown beyond a doubt that we are the Muggles' betters and it is high time we accept that!"

Belova's face twitched in anger. He struggled as he stood. "We shall see which one of is right, Minister."

"We're not done here, Herbert," Godfrey said.

"I say we are, sir!"

Godfrey pointed his wand at Belova's chest. "Please sit down."

"Are you threatening me?" demanded Belova. "Am I now inferior to you like a Muggle?"

"Herbert, I am no fool," he said evenly. "I know there will be many wizards and witches who share you naive view. They do not bother me for they know nothing of Mr. Blaor and his potion. But you, and the others that were part of the meeting, know too much."

Taking a long, deep breath, Godfrey raised his wand until it pointed at Belova's head. He did not want to do this. Belova was a fellow wizard and deserved better. However, this needed to be done.

_"Obliviate!"_

**x**

**x**

Normally, Maxwell Foundscuim did not listen to rumors. He knew that such farfetched tales were often blown out of proportion. When he heard that one hag claim she saw the ghost of the Boy Who Lived lurking about in the ruins of Hogsmeade, Foundscuim believed the hag had created the tale just to garnish some attention for herself.

One thing about her claim did catch his attention however. She said she had ventured into the ruins of Hogsmeade to loot the homes and shops. Foundscuim knew that the large items in these places would be destroyed. But there was a very good chance he'd find some small trinkets – such as jewelry or wands – lying about in the wreckage that he could sell and earn some gold.

No one had dared scavenge and salvage Hogsmeade since the attack for fear of the Acromantulas. But the thought of the potential gold he could earn pushed Foundscuim to brave the dangers. True, it was a more hazardous than his normal trade of sneaking into magical folks' homes while they were out, but Foundscuim believed it was worth the risk.

Besides, he would be extra cautious. He told himself he would just Apparate in the middle of the village. He would risk no more no more than fifteen minutes searching for valuables. If he even saw a hint of an Acromantula, he'd Apparate away as quickly as possible.

**x**

**x**

A sudden, loud bell sounded, rousing Harry and his witches from their slumber.

"What the hell?" asked Susan groggily.

"It's the map," said Hermione. "Someone's entered Hogsmeade."

"I guess I was wrong about the rumor needing more time before someone came to investigate for themselves," commented Daphne.

Untangling himself from his witches, Harry crawled out of the large bed. He walked to the map and looked for black dot, indicating where the person was. "He's near where the Three Broomsticks used to be."

Harry selected a point close to the area the person was in to Apparate to.

"Hold on a tic," said Susan. She rolled out of bed and snatched up her wand from a nearby table. She trotted to Harry side, unmindful of her bouncing breasts, and waved her wand over Harry's body. A pair of ratty and worn robes shimmered into existence over the wizard's body. "I figure if you're supposed to have been stumbling around here for months, your robes should look torn."

"Thanks," Harry said. He closed his eyes and focused on the spot he had selected. After feeling the unpleasant squeezing sensation of Apparition travel, Harry was in Hogsmeade.

Using his heightened senses, Harry pinpointed the mystery person. He heard the person, a man by the smell of him, stumbling around a hundred feet away. Slowly, Harry slinked through the destroyed buildings and rubble. When he was about twenty feet away from his target, he peeked out from behind the remnants of a wall and saw the wizard. He was around forty and was wearing old robes. He was flicking his wand at some rubble, sending chunks of brick and mortar flying away. The wizard's face brightened. He bent over and picked up a gold necklace. The wizard was a lowlife scavenger, picking at the bones of Hogsmeade. Harry would enjoy scaring the man.

Making his move, Harry walked out from behind the wall. He turned and moved briskly toward the wizard. When he was ten feet away, Harry shouted angrily "What the hell are you doing?"

Foundscuim shot up. He looked in utter shock at the young wizard approaching him. His eyes fell on the famous lightning bolt scar adoring his head. "Holy shite, it _is_ Potter's ghost!"

"Get out of here!" yelled Harry. Before the unknown wizard could react, Harry tapped into the Pryapux's power, releasing a large portion of the demon. In the blink of an eye, Harry transformed into the beast. Baring his silver fangs, Harry roared _"GET OUT OF HERE!"_

Foundscuim's eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He screamed and pitched backwards, crashing to the ground.

As a show of anger, and also to prove he wasn't a ghost as Daphne's fabricated-rumor claimed, Harry raised his fist high over his head and brought it crashing down on a nearby pile of bricks, smashing them to dust. "LEAVE!" he bellowed.

Not noticing that warm urine was flowing down his leg, Foundscuim rolled over and got to his feet as quickly as possible and ran as fast as his legs could take him.

As the wizard retreated, Harry kept up the show of rage. He screamed and roared loudly as he swung his wildly at the remains of the buildings surrounding him.

The wizard continued to run out of the remains of the village. Once out of sight, Harry reverted to normal and Apparated back to the hut.

"Did it work?" asked Hermione.

"Like a charm," he replied. "It was some wizard looking through the rubble, searching for valuables. I got close enough for him to get a good look at me before I changed."

"Well I guess this means I won't have to go out tonight and tell people I saw Harry in Hogsmeade like last night," said Daphne. "That bloke will do it for me."

**x**

**x**

Draco rapped his knuckles against Pansy's door. "Pansy, let me in," he pleaded.

His urges had not been met. The Muggles he attempted to torture could not satiate him and he needed his lover.

But Pansy would not have Draco touch her. She had locked herself in her chambers.

She had always remembered Draco forcing the powerful love potion down her throat, but for a long time, she felt as if she deserved it to happen. Her adoration of Draco made her believe he was acting in her best interests and his actions had made her better. But now, as the effects of the Amortentia potion slowly began to wear off, Pansy grew to hate and despise Draco for the deed. He had forced a love potion down her throat and turned her into a sex slave. She had become Draco's own personal whore.

However, she did not hate Draco completely. Whether it was still the lingering effects of the Amortentia or her natural feelings for the wizard she had dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, Pansy did not know. She still loved him.

The conflicting emotions of hatred and love tore her asunder.

**x**

**x**

"Damn thing hasn't even sparkled," complained Rhisiart as he looked at the globe that was supposed to light up when Daphne Greengrass entered her parents' home. Even the veteran officer's time honed patience was being tried. "Doesn't this girl ever visit her mum and dad?"

"Apparently not," replied Segundus grumpily.

"You know, we're going to have to come up with another plan," suggested Marshal. "This one's not working and Wright's going to get angry if we don't come up with some leads to track down the mudblood."

"Well don't look at me, ask Ron," said Segundus.

"Hmm?" mumbled Ron. The red-head had been focus on the clock on the wall and had not heard his subordinates.

"What's your problem, Weasley?" asked Marshal. "Your head's in the clouds."

"Sorry," he said. "I've just been thinking."

"Hopefully you've been thinking about the case and how we can catch your ex," chided Segundus.

"Leave the man alone," sounded Rhisiart. "He's got a lot on his mind with the case and his pregnant wife."

"Thanks, Rhisiart," said Ron. He glanced at the clock. Two minutes to noon. "I'm going to take my lunch now." Ron looked at his subordinates and lied, "I'll get a spot of fresh air. Maybe that'll get my brain going and I'll come up with another idea."

Ron had no intention of attempting to create another plan to capture Granger. He was going to use his lunch hour to satisfy his own needs.

Like the day before, Ron went straight to the Muggle park. He found the Muggle he had dubbed _'Hermione'_ waiting for him just as he had commanded. Taking her by the hand, he said softly "I'm glad you listened to me."

"I'll always listen to you because I love you," said _'Hermione'._

He took her into the small patch of trees and forced her onto her knees and shoved himself roughly into her mouth. As he pumped in and out of her mouth, Ron let loose and growled out the frustrations that had built inside of him. "You can't nag and order me about, now can you, Hermione!"

In short order, Ron climaxed. As before, his orgasm was powerful and intense. Much to his pleasure, he was still hard. The wizard pushed _'Hermione'_ onto the ground face first and took her from behind. A few moments' later, he came for the second time and his knees gave out. The exhausted wizard fell backwards onto the grass.

Panting and spent, Ron lay there with a satisfied smile on his face. _'Hermione'_ crawled up his body and pressed her bosom into his chest.

"You can do that to me forever, my love," she whispered breathlessly.

His smile grew broader. This is how it was supposed to be with the real Hermione. That bitch had taken it away from him, but Ron had gotten the last laugh. With this proxy-Hermione, Ron showed that bitch who was the one in charge. This was the way he thought it was supposed to be – he was the one in control, not her. This _'Hermione'_ would always know her place and never make him feel low or worthless. It did not matter to Ron that it was all fake.

**x**

**x**

Wormtail licked his lips as he looked down at the steaming bowl of stew before him. _The Splintered Wand_, a pub located deep in Knockturn Alley had the absolute best beef stew. There was something about the combination of spices, potatoes, carrots and onions that made his taste buds dance. Even though most people thought him to be dead and he could be recognized, the rat-like wizard couldn't help but to make a visit to _The Splintered Wand_ and sample their delicious stew every chance he got. After years of living as a rat and being forced to eat scraps, Wormtail enjoyed his little indulgences. Before diving into the stew, Wormtail pulled the hood of his robes forward to conceal his face from any prying eyes. Thankfully, most wizards and witches tended not to put their noses in other people's business in Knockturn Alley. To do so often meant trouble for the prying individual.

It was while he was eating the delicious stew that Wormtail noticed a terrified looking wizard stumble into the pub. The wizard, who had evidently soiled himself, staggered up to the bar and ordered fire-whiskey. Wormtail smiled. He liked to see other people cower.

At the bar, Maxwell Foundscuim's hand trembled as if he was suffering some kind of fit as he raised the glass to his lips. The amber liquid sloshed out and spilled on his fingers. Before he could lose any more of the precious fire-whiskey, he gulped down the contents of the glass.

"You okay there, Maxie," asked Sebastian, the bartender of _The Splintered Wand_. "You look worse than that hag who claimed she saw the Boy Who Lived's ghost last night."

"It weren't no ghost," said Foundscuim. "Ghost don't turn into demons and they certain don't smash bricks to pieces."

Wormtail nearly dropped his spoon. Not only had the frighten wizard claimed he saw Potter, but he saw Potter change into a demon.

"He turned into a big, black thing with silver fangs and horns!" Foundscuim said rapidly. "His body was covered with these weird designs!"

"Oh tosh," scoffed Sebastian.

"I'm serious!" snapped Foundscuim. "I saw it with my own eyes! The monster roared at me and I ran! I ran for close to a half hour before I calmed down enough to Apparate!"

"Maxie, you're nothing more than a swindler, a liar, and petty thief," retorted the bartender. "This is probably just some scam."

"It isn't!" Foundscuim protested vehemently.

"I heard enough about Potter's ghost from that hag last night thank you," said Sebastian dismissively.

Foundscuim frowned and barked "The hell with you then!" and stormed out of the pub.

Forgetting the stew, Wormtail quickly followed the wizard as he left. It may have been true what the bartender said about this wizard being a liar and thief. But he had mentioned that the demon had intricate designs on its body. This gave credence to the wizard's story for Wormtail remembered that Harry had numerous designs carved into his flesh.

Once outside, Wormtail quickly moved in front of the wizard.

"What do you want?" Foundscuim snapped angrily.

"Did you really see Harry Potter?" asked Wormtail.

"What, are you going to call me a liar like Sebastian?"

"No, I believe you," Wormtail said. He raised his silver hand and pointed his wand at the wizard's face. _"Stupefy!"_

After creating a portkey to transport himself and his prisoner back to his Master's castle, Wormtail hurried to the Dark Lord's throne room with the unconscious wizard floating behind him. Wormtail was ecstatic. If this wizard could tell the Dark Lord where he saw Potter, then Wormtail would be showered with praise.

Entering his Master's throne room, Wormtail quickly bowed, touching his brow to the cold, stone floor. "Forgive my intrusion, Lord, but I've brought news as to Potter's whereabouts!"

Voldemort said, " I take it this wizard will be able to tell me this information."

"Yes, Sire," Wormtail said, trying to hide his glee. "I overheard him claim he saw Potter and that he turned into a demon that had symbols and designs all over his body."

Voldemort cocked an eyebrow. He flicked his wand and the wizard slowly lowered to the floor. The Dark Lord spoke, _"Rennervate."_

Opening his eyes, Foundscuim screamed in terror. Standing before him was the most feared wizard, Voldemort.

The Dark Lord smiled, pointed his wand at Foundscuim and said_; "Legilimens!"_

Foundscuim stopped screaming as Voldemort searched his memories. A few moments later, Voldemort ended the spell.

"Does he know of Potter's location, Master?" asked Wormtail, waiting for the rare praise he was about to receive.

"Yes he does," Voldemort said. He smiled cruelly at Wormtail. "My pet is in _Hogsmeade_."

"Hogsmeade… but…" Wormtail began to panic. "But there were Acromantulas all over the school grounds…"

"I ordered you to search both Hogwarts and the village," the evil wizard said. "Clearly you did not follow my command."

"_Bu_—but Sire, the moment I arrived on the school grounds, a pack of Acromantulas tried to attack me," he whimpered pathetically.

"And you reasoned if the Acromantulas tried to eat you in your rat form then they certainly would've eater my pet," Voldemort said.

"Yes," Wormtail said desperately hoping that his Master was going to forgive him.

Voldemort scoffed. "Fool, I gave you a command. You should have obeyed it without question! If you had done as I said and avoided the Acromantulas, you would have found my pet!"

"Forgive me, Master, forgive me."

Leveling his wand at Wormtail, Voldemort snarled _"Crucio!"_

As the rat-like wizard scream and writhed in agony, Foundscuim scurried to the far corner of the room, hoping to distance himself from You Know Who as much as possible.

Even though Voldemort had come to the same conclusion as Wormtail – that if Potter went to Hogwarts he would've been eaten by the Acromantulas seeing the giant spiders charged Wormtail in his rat form – the Dark Lord felt he had to punish his minion. Voldemort could not show weakness in any fashion. If he admitted Wormtail had performed his duty despite not finding Potter when he ventured to Hogwarts, Voldemort would share in the failure. Therefore, he had to place the blame on Wormtail for thinking Potter was not at Hogsmeade or Hogwarts.

Voldemort continued to cast the curse on Wormtail as he considered what he had just learned. Potter was alive and at full strength. That meant he had more concubines than just the mudblood Granger. One witch could not feed his pet completely.

Another thought about the situation bothered Voldemort. For some reason, the blood bonding ritual had not worked properly and Potter still had a will of his own. Continuing this thought, Voldemort scrutinized Foundscuim's memory. Potter revealing himself to the wizard seemed too convenient, too staged. Foundscuim was nothing more than an unwitting dupe, but it was clear that Potter was up to something. He had shown himself to the wizard in hopes of the sighting reaching Voldemort.

The Dark Lord snickered. It was obviously a trap. Was Potter foolish enough to think that Lord Voldemort would fall for such an obvious ruse?

However, Voldemort did want his pet. Perhaps he could use Potter's foolishness to his advantage.

Voldemort had to consider the threat that his pet posed. Even if he could turn the situation against Potter, the power his pet held was substantial. So much so that the demon could gravely injure the Dark Lord if given even a moment to act. Even if he approached Potter with twenty of his best followers, the demon was so strong that he could still pose a significant threat to Lord Voldemort's safety.

Voldemort realized he had to weaken Potter before he could risk reclaiming his pet. Then it came to him.

Finally lifting the curse on Wormtail, Voldemort called to one of the guards stationed outside his throne room. "Inform Bellatrix and Draco that I wish to see them and their team this instant."

The guard trotted out of the room to go fetch the Death Eaters.

Voldemort turned to the whimpering Wormtail.

"You have been a great disappointment, Wormtail," he hissed at the whimpering wizard. "Next time you fail me, I will not be so generous."

"Thank you, Master," sobbed Wormtail.

"Be gone from my sight," Voldemort said, turning his back on Wormtail.

As the rat-like wizard crawled out of the room, Voldemort spoke to Foundscuim. "You have outlived your usefulness, I'm afraid."

"Please, I won't tell anyone, please don't kill me," begged Foundscuim. Voldemort let the wizard continue to plead for his life for a short while. Finally, Voldemort pointed his wand at Foundscuim and said _"Avada Kedavra."_

A few minutes later, Bellatrix, Draco, Pansy, Nott, Goyle, Crabbe and Bulstrode entered the throne room. Voldemort announced, "I have found my pet."

"That's wonderful Master," cheered Bellatrix.

Draco tried to conceal his disappointment. He had wanted the honor of finding Potter for the Dark Lord.

Even though she knew it was improper to do so in front of their Master, Pansy glowered at Draco. She was still battling with her feelings toward him.

Voldemort looked to Nott, Goyle, Crabbe and Bulstrode and said "Thank you for your diligent work. As a reward for your service, I shall inform you of a secret that only a few of my most trusted Death Eaters know."

He spent the next several minutes explaining to the four Death Eaters about Potter and the demon inside of him. Voldemort concluded by saying, "To retrieve what is rightfully mine, I must weaken Potter. To do so, I must remove him from his _food_ supply."

Bellatrix seemed to glow with excitement. "You wish for us to kill his concubines?"

"Yes, Bellatrix," he said in response. "However, my pet will be very protective of the witches he has bonded to. In order to kill these witches, we must distract Potter."

Voldemort stood in front of Bellatrix and ordered "Fetch your niece. She will serve well as part of the distraction."

"Yes, my Lord," she bowed.

"While the half-blood metamorphmagus distracts my pet, you shall search Hogsmeade for his concubines," ordered Voldemort. "I will also assign two more teams of Death Eaters to assist you in this task. You must move quickly for if Potter even suspects that his concubines are in danger he will lay you to waste."

Voldemort paused and looked over Draco and his team. He needed another distraction to help keep Potter's attention away from the Death Eaters hunting his concubines. Draco and Pansy were too valuable to him – Voldemort could use their skills in the future. Goyle, Crabbe, and Bulstrode were too dim to act out his plan. That left Nott.

Placing his hand on Nott's shoulder, Voldemort said; "Theodore, I have a special task for you to complete on this mission."

Nott beamed with pride. "Anything you require, my Lord!"

"There is a chance that the metamorphmagus will not distract Potter long enough. I shall place two more teams of Death Eaters under your command. If the metamorphmagus fails, it will be your duty to stall Potter in order to allow your teammates time to hunt down his concubines," the Dark Lord explained.

Draco averted his eyes. He thought bitterly that Voldemort should've chosen him for this important task. With twenty Death Eaters under his command, Draco could easily take care of Potter – demon or not.

Bowing, Nott said "Thank you, sire. I will not fail you."

"There is another aspect of the mission that will need to fulfill, Theodore," Voldemort said, he placed his hand on Nott's shoulder and led him out of the throne room. "And for that, we must stop by the potions laboratory."

**x**

**x**

Ron staggered into his home and immediately flopped down in the nearest chair.

"Did you have a rough day at work, Ronnie?" asked Mafalda.

"Yeah," he muttered. "They had me running ragged."

In truth, Ron had been exhausted by his afternoon romp with the Muggle he named Hermione. Ejaculating two times in a row had drained the red-head. He had dragged his feet throughout the rest of the day, yawning and struggling to stay awake.

"Your father is tired, too," informed Mafalda. "But Molly thinks Arthur's coming down with a case of the dragon pox. The poor man. He just gout out of St. Mungo's and now he's sick."

"Really?" asked Ron, concerned for his father's well being.

"It's probably just a cold and I think Molly's just exaggerating. You know how she is. She's got Arthur cooped up in his bed and she's demanded that he stay there all evening." Mafalda walked out of the kitchen and said "Unfortunately we're all out of pepper-up potion. So Molly and I are going to head down to Diagon Alley and pick up some ingredients."

He frowned. "What about my dinner?"

"It's in the over," she said with a smile. "Just put a warming charm on it before you eat it."

She donned her traveling robe and said "Molly and I will gone for a while. Once we get the potion, we were going to head to a second hand shop to look for baby clothes."

Ron yawned loudly. "S'okay."

"Why don't you take a kip before you eat, Ronnie," suggested Mafalda.

As he closed his eyes, Ron said "Don't mind if I do."

**x**

**x**

"Are you still weeping over that half-human mongrel?"

Tonks shot out of bed and looked at her aunt in shock. The Auror had not even heard Bellatrix enter.

"What do you want?" demanded Tonks, whiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand.

"The Dark Lord has selected you for an important mission," said Bellatrix.

"Who do I have to kill?" she asked flatly as if her spirit had been crushed.

"Even though you've become quite _proficient_ at murdering defenseless wizards and witches," Bellatrix was clearing enjoying her cruel choice of words, "this mission only requires your presence."

Tonks leveled her eyes at Bellatrix suspiciously.

"I'm telling you the truth," the evil witch said in her sickly sweet voice.

"There's more to this than what you're telling me," Tonks said.

Bellatrix simply smiled. "We're leaving in five minutes. You might want to freshen up."

**x**

**x**

Back at Voldemort's castle, the Dark Lord was addressing over two score of his followers gathered in the main hall.

"I have selected all of you for a very special mission," he began. "This is vitally important to me and I shall reward you if you succeed.

"Gibbon and Mulciber, your team will accompany Draco's team. You shall spread out along the edges of Hogsmeade and search for a group of witches. Once you find them, kill them quickly. Do not hesitate or toy with them. If you do, you will be putting your own lives in mortal peril." Voldemort spoke soberly. He turned and stated "Carrow, McAlister, and Stibbons, your teams will follow me."

**x**

**x**

"Good grief," said Susan as she looked at the map and the dozens of black dots at the far end of Hogsmeade. "I didn't realize that people would buy the rumor so quickly."

Harry stood before the red-head and asked "Could you conjure up another set of robes for me?"

She sighed as she waved her wand over his body. "All this hard work conjuring robes just so you can shred them to pieces by changing into the beastie is going to get bothersome real quick."

After he was dressed, Harry checked the spot where the person arrived. There were forty-eight dots.

"It's Death Eaters," said Harry.

"Really?" asked Hermione. "So soon? I thought it would've taken a few days to reach Voldemort."

"It has to be," Harry said. "There's over forty of them and I doubt a bunch of people are here to sight-see. It's an attack force."

Hermione looked at the numerous dots on the map. "Do you think Voldemort's with them?"

"More likely than not," he replied. "Voldemort wouldn't want to leave retrieving his pet demon to one of his underlings."

Harry watched as one dot broke away from the rest and walked down the middle of the village. The dot had traveled the equivalent of a dozen feet before two more groups broke off. These groups split up and began to move on either side of the village – ten on each side. The other twenty-two held their position.

Pointing to the dot walking alone, Harry said "I'll lay money down that's Voldemort. He's going to try and draw me out. These," he said indicating the twenty dots moving alongside the village, "are probably trying to flank me."

"What are you going to do?" asked Hermione.

Harry tapped his finger on his chin as he considered his options. "Voldemort's the strongest one of the bunch. I'll have to take him out first. Then I'll move through the rest. I'll Apparate a few feet in front of him and then jump him before he has a chance to react."

"Be careful, Harry" said Hermione. She kissed him on the lips. Susan and Daphne followed suit.

He checked the map again, closed his eyes and Appareted to the spot he had chosen.

Before he opened his eyes, Harry began to tap into the power of the demon.

"Harry?" a surprised and familiar voice cried out.

He opened his eyes and froze in shock. "Tonks?"

**To be continued…**

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